I went to Yale’s Second Look to do my due diligence, but never truly considered going here. I even left early to attend the overlapping Second Look of a different institution - the school I and everyone who knew me was sure I would attend. It was a great program that would provide excellent training and was much closer to home. The comfortable choice.
Throughout my short time in New Haven, however, I grew more and more conflicted. Here, students couldn’t wait to tell me how happy they felt and why. Here, people talked about the big picture and what this journey means to them. Here, the minutiae of studying and tests were part of life, but not the important part. The night before I left Second Look, the students took all of us to GPSCY. Amid the conversations and laughter, I paused to look around the room. For the first time, I envisioned myself there with the people around me as my classmates, friends, and colleagues for the rest of my life. I smiled at the thought. As the night came to an end, Dippy Bhattacharya, a graduating 7th year who knew how conflicted I felt, hugged me goodbye. With his hands on my shoulders and looking me straight in the eyes, he said: “You can’t make a bad decision. There are just choices to make, and whatever you choose will be fine. Just try to choose the place where you think you can not only become a good physician-scientist, but a good person. Because that matters too.” The next morning, I flew to the other school - the one my assumed and imagined life included - and waited for them to change my mind. But instead of growing more conflicted throughout the visit, I grew less. I missed New Haven already.
At 3pm on April 13th, after talking with faculty and students at the other school all day, I called my curious parents to explain what was going on. Although I knew my decision deep down, I was reluctant to verbalize it; worried they would be upset about me completely changing my plans and moving so far away. After patiently listening to my attempts to rationalize my feelings, my mom interrupted: “Sarah, stop. We hear it in your voice. You’re going to Yale.”
With tears streaming down my face and knowing I had my parents’ full support, I took a deep breath and replied with all the confidence in the world, “I’m going to Yale.” Within hours, I contacted my family, friends, and mentors with the news and withdrew from every other program. My entire life and everything I imagined for myself had changed. Choosing to attend Yale was the scary, uncomfortable choice. Choosing to attend Yale meant this born-and-raised Midwesterner had to adapt to the Northeast. Choosing to attend Yale meant moving away from everything I knew and everyone I loved to pursue my dreams. It was the easiest decision I’ve ever made.
Nevertheless, when my parents left New Haven after my White Coat Ceremony, I was alone here in this new world. Throughout the 41 days since then, I’ve felt joy and sorrow; excitement and anxiety; intense interest and boredom. I’ve been completely overwhelmed, completely energized, and completely exhausted. I’ve cried while discussing end of life care, and I’ve beamed while waving to the 4-seat strollers full of babies on Harkness Lawn. I’ve sung karaoke at GPSCY, eaten lunch at Nica’s, and studied with friends late at night in the Medical Library. I’ve also missed seeing my brother and his wife renovate their new home in Cincinnati, numerous family birthdays, and experiences with friends who knew me before August 9th. Yet, out of all the emotions I’ve felt so far, loneliness is not one of them. Perhaps it’s because I’m constantly surrounded by my MD and MD-PhD classmates, whether it’s in class, the library, the gym, at parties, or running into each other on the street. Perhaps it’s survival instinct. We’ve all been thrown into this wild journey together, and our odds of making it are much better if we help each other. Perhaps we just genuinely like each other and enjoy spending time together. Whatever the reasons, I have found my pack, and whether by choice or necessity, they are my family here. And with my new family comes a home. For MD-PhD students, this is not a home away from home. This is where we spend close to a decade building our lives; where we will live, learn, love, and explore. In the next eight years, my MD-PhD family members and I may fall in love, buy houses, and have children. We will age. (Sadly, I will look and feel older when I leave at 32 than when I enter now at 24 years old). Our minds will also age; we will be well-trained and wiser, and probably more tired. We will travel the world. We will also see a lot of the library and our labs. Together and individually, we will grow as physicians, scientists, and humans.
This is where I can become not only a good physician-scientist, but a good person.
As I reflect on my decision to attend Yale and the past 41 days here, and as I look forward to 2,500 or so more, it’s clear that my dad was right. This was not the comfortable choice, but this is where I need to be. Dippy was also right. This is where I can become not only a good physician-scientist, but a good person. It may not feel real yet, and the journey will be as incredibly challenging as it is exciting, but this is my life. I am an MD-PhD student at Yale School of Medicine in New Haven, Connecticut, where I will get world-class training and be surrounded by the most driven, compassionate, intelligent, and supportive family imaginable along the way. This life will be a good one.