Remembering Match Day

I found the piece that I wrote about our match day experience. Man, even though it's been two years [and we really ended up lucking out], it's still so raw.

Match Day was a strange day for me. For 3 + years the anticipation of this day has built up. D-day-- destiny day. It’s supposed to be the day where you finally begin to see all the hard work pay off. When you open that envelope, it’s like magic is supposed to pour out and envelop you, taking you to that “place” you’ve been dreaming of. I imagined that moment over and over in my head-- the outpour of relief and happiness upon reading the words stating that we would be going home. Matching would signify that we had made it through medical school and we were getting ready to take that next step. For me, in my mind, that next step meant going back home to California. While our time in Saint Louis had been pleasant, the prospect of going home for residency was what kept me sane. We had to go home. All this time I had been telling myself that I just had to get through these four years and then I could go back home.

I should have known that going home wasn’t really even a possibility. After all, E wanted to an Orthopod. Despite his doing everything “right” (honoring most of his classes, lots of research, lots of pubs, high board scores, extracurriculars, and being AOA), everything seemed to be going wrong. It was one blow after another. Wasted away rotations. Rejections. When all was said and done we had three chances to go home and ten chances to not. I tried to be grateful that he had as many interviews as he did and focus on the importance of just matching. I tried to keep my secret wishes to myself, knowing that once you say them out loud they instantly become selfish desires, unworthy of being fulfilled. After all, I was truly grateful.

The weeks [and days] leading up to Black Monday were stressful, anxious times. When we saw “Congratulations, you have matched” across the screen, I couldn’t help but want to cry. Everyone was excited. My mother in law was beside herself. He did it. E had matched into orthopaedics. You would think that with so much excitement on Black Monday that Match Day would have been greeted with the same enthusiasm, but Match Day was a strange day. The energy and anticipation in the room was suffocating. Waiting and waiting for his name to be called. I couldn’t breath. I couldn’t think. I was just there. When they finally called his name, everything seemed to stand still. He let me open the envelope. I was so nervous. Inside that envelope was a piece of paper with words on it that would change our lives forever. My heart sank as I read the words. The words telling me that I would not be going home. I got through the four years and I would not be going home. I stepped outside to make the calls. I didn’t cry. I’m sure I was numb. Our family and friends were still excited for us. That meant a lot.

A couple of weeks have passed since Match Day and now there is excitement and eagerness to start the next step. While we will not be going home, E will get to train at a great program and he will be an Orthopod. Although, I can still clearly see myself at that table reading those words, feeling my heart sink, we are finally beginning to see all the hard work pay off.