The Match, Part 5: Match Day!

My hands were shaking as I opened the envelope.

It was not a calm or private moment, in any sense of the word.

I suppose it is hard to be either when you standing in a loud and crowded room, trying to remain stationary as tides of anxious people surge around you, both toward and away from the table with the envelopes. It is especially hard for a moment to be calm or private when it is being captured by a photographer from the Oregonian.

The sound of the rapidly clicking shutter melted into the dry rustle of paper as my shaky hands opened the envelope with my name on it, and unfolded the piece of paper.

I matched at Hennepin County Medical Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota. My first choice.

That was the moment. The moment that my future became definite, the reality of my departure from the people I love in Portland dropping like concrete from the little printed words on that weightless piece of paper. At the same time, the excitement about that same future began to set in. What a moment!

Congratulations to all my friends and colleagues who lived through their own future-defining moments at around the same time. My friend Tracy, who is applauding in the picture, had just found out that she got her first choice program in pediatrics and will also be leaving Portland. There were others who were not so happy - many tears were shed yesterday, and not all of them out of joy.

Fortunately, we were able to leave the frenzied masses and enjoy a much deserved drink at a cafe in a location far, far from campus. A bloody mary never tasted so good (which is why I had another one - that one tasted pretty good too.)
The rest of the day was dedicated to celebrating my birthday. I treated myself to a wonderful massage, which, after the two drinks and the general surrealness of the day's events, put me into an altered mental state that I remedied with a walk and a nice nap. Alex took me out for an absolutely delicious dinner. I finished off the night with a little bit of disinhibited karaoke with some of my favorite people in the world. People who I will miss dearly. Fortunately, most of them left before I decided, in a moment of ill-advised disinhibition induced by one too many amaretto sours, to sing Milli Vanilli's "Blame it on the Rain." That, and not the realization of my impeding departure, was definitely the low point of the day. For everyone involved.