My story of success is somewhat ambiguous, the reason being my success was brought by tragedy. I am writing this to show people that they can adapt to extenuating circumstances, be able to use my story to better their lives, and demonstrate that all success is not without compromise. I want you to learn from my mistakes, instead of making your own. My story begins earlier than most, at Highland Park High School. It was my junior year that I had first decided that I wanted to major in biology, and started to prepare myself for that challenges ahead. I had taken every PAP science class offered, as well as several AP science classes, hoping to be able to fortify my education enough to be able to get through college courses. Being junior year,
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The new program of socialized medicine in the U.S. eased my moral qualms of practicing anywhere other than Canada. After studying hard in my major of general biological studies, it was time to start applying to medical school. I rigorously examined medical school rankings across the country and had finally decided, due to my imperfect grades and MCAT, that University of Wisconsin medical school was for me. I felt a special connection with Madison, Wisconsin by reason of my grandfather and namesake, Douglas Zinke, who attended UW for biochemistry, and whose father, Augustus Wilhelm Zinke, had lived after he fled from Prussia after the country’s collapse. I was a perfect fit for this medical school, especially since I had met or exceeded all standards for admission. My GPA was a 3.78, slightly above the average at UW of 3.77, my MCAT score was a 32, the average for incoming students, and I had completed more internships and class hours than most. Having submitted my application I struggled to grasp the magnitude of this moment, I had basically just decided the next four to 14 years of my life with one keystroke, because I knew that if I got in, I would see my dream through. Several …show more content…
But four years of tireless nights and dragging days had battered me down to a sleep deprived, emotionally absent, information regurgitating husk of my former self. After I had passed the first part of the medical boards, I was finally able to practice medicine as a resident. Having been at the top of my class, for the first time in my life schools were trying to recruit me. It was a wonderful feeling to be wanted by the top residency programs in the country. I finally accepted the offer of my internship and residency at the Mayo Clinic, in Rochester, Minnesota. I chose this program due to its prestige, the $65,454 pay and the cheap living expenses that allowed me to be able to have the same lifestyle I had as a child. And, for the first time, I was being paid to learn, which is revolutionary to someone who spent $38,000 a year on medical school. Working 80-120 hours per week was a level of exhaustion I couldn't have ever prepared myself for, it was the first time in my life I could fall asleep in 12 seconds flat. But I knew I was going to be rewarded with a six-figure salary and two months vacation when my residency was complete. It was halfway through my third year as a resident when my mother started to slip, an inevitability our family had prepared for because of our long history of Alzheimer's disease. I
The new program of socialized medicine in the U.S. eased my moral qualms of practicing anywhere other than Canada. After studying hard in my major of general biological studies, it was time to start applying to medical school. I rigorously examined medical school rankings across the country and had finally decided, due to my imperfect grades and MCAT, that University of Wisconsin medical school was for me. I felt a special connection with Madison, Wisconsin by reason of my grandfather and namesake, Douglas Zinke, who attended UW for biochemistry, and whose father, Augustus Wilhelm Zinke, had lived after he fled from Prussia after the country’s collapse. I was a perfect fit for this medical school, especially since I had met or exceeded all standards for admission. My GPA was a 3.78, slightly above the average at UW of 3.77, my MCAT score was a 32, the average for incoming students, and I had completed more internships and class hours than most. Having submitted my application I struggled to grasp the magnitude of this moment, I had basically just decided the next four to 14 years of my life with one keystroke, because I knew that if I got in, I would see my dream through. Several …show more content…
But four years of tireless nights and dragging days had battered me down to a sleep deprived, emotionally absent, information regurgitating husk of my former self. After I had passed the first part of the medical boards, I was finally able to practice medicine as a resident. Having been at the top of my class, for the first time in my life schools were trying to recruit me. It was a wonderful feeling to be wanted by the top residency programs in the country. I finally accepted the offer of my internship and residency at the Mayo Clinic, in Rochester, Minnesota. I chose this program due to its prestige, the $65,454 pay and the cheap living expenses that allowed me to be able to have the same lifestyle I had as a child. And, for the first time, I was being paid to learn, which is revolutionary to someone who spent $38,000 a year on medical school. Working 80-120 hours per week was a level of exhaustion I couldn't have ever prepared myself for, it was the first time in my life I could fall asleep in 12 seconds flat. But I knew I was going to be rewarded with a six-figure salary and two months vacation when my residency was complete. It was halfway through my third year as a resident when my mother started to slip, an inevitability our family had prepared for because of our long history of Alzheimer's disease. I