“Years ago, I stood before a chaplain and said that although I had failed my medical licensing exam a second time, I was proud of my score increase and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the failure, as painful as it was to receive, was a set up for an even greater testimony. I knew I wasn’t supposed to pass. At least not then. God was doing something far beyond what I could ever ask think or imagine. Just the thought of all that’s happened since then, and all that’s yet to come gives me chills. He’s excellent in all His ways. And the story He was writing is about to get even better.

I had faith then, and now.”

12/27/23 1:10 AM

A continuation of “My First Year of Medical School was Hell“

Before You Call Yourself a Failure, Read This.

There are so many parts to my medical school journey that never made it to pen and paper. This story has many layers. Here I stand at the start of yet another turning point in my life. I’ve taken the exam. Again. Nine hours of perseverance and one ultimate outcome: pass or fail.

My outcome: Fail.

If it weren’t for my community, I wouldn’t be in the proper headspace to write this at all. There were so many emotions that I felt seeing that “F” across the screen of my results. I was more disappointed than I had ever been in my entire life. But even in my sadness and lack of understanding in why this happened, God lifted my chin and sent a community of support to remind me that He cares.

This story isn’t over. Something tells me it is just the beginning. My journey is nonlinear. But I’ve learned that nothing about a walk of faith ever is. And that’s okay.  I’ll reach the destination eventually. I will pass this exam and I will become a doctor. I will persevere.

My first year of medical school was hell. And to be honest, so were many parts of the years thereafter. Who knew one near-death car accident would change the trajectory of the next eight years of my life. By the time I match into residency I will have completed a ten-year journey through medical school. This is my calling, however, and I won’t give up on the race God has set before me.

There’s a story behind each exam failure, and the sinking feeling in my chest is always the same. Of all the times I’ve received a non-passing score, the one that hurt the most was this one. I just didn’t see it coming. I worked very hard. But by God’s grace I can work harder. I want this. There is divine provision for this. And I know with proper care and dedication I can finally achieve a pass.

It is interesting how much mindset plays a role in the outcome of one’s performance. Besides lacking the necessary accommodations for my licensing exam, I lacked confidence in some of the preparation process. It is imperative to have faith that the amount of effort I put into studying can improve my exam performance. I must give it my all. And moving forward, it would help to remind myself of who I was before medical school ignited feelings of failure.

I have failed, but I am not a failure. There is a difference. Failing is something that happens to you. Failure is what can define you, only if you allow it.

A classmate recently said to me, “You won’t be remembered for your failures.”

Her words were exactly what I needed to hear during such a challenging time. She’s right, I am more than my failures.

I am the girl who’s failed her licensing exam six times. But I am also the girl who graduated with the highest GPA in her high school class and gave a speech about doing your best, rather than striving to be the best. I am the girl who tutored general and organic chemistry in college because she didn’t want other pre-meds to drop their aspirations just  because they felt like they couldn’t do it. Chemistry was hard, but I overcame that hurdle and positioned myself to help others do the same.

My failures are part of my story, not the whole of it.

Societal norms and a fractured mindset can make you feel like it isn’t okay to think of yourself positively. It is okay to reflect on your wins and positive attributes. When you think of yourself beneath your worth you lose sight of who you truly are and who you have potential to be.

Rather than ruminating on my failures, remembering who I always have been influences who I have potential to become in this next season of my life. This story doesn’t have to end in failure. No matter the unexpected turns in my journey, God will get the glory from my testimony.

One Journey Ends and Another Begins

For years, I thought about my acceptance into my new program almost daily. Now, I envision graduation day, often. 

I didn’t have to get this second chance. I’m grateful for this miracle and all the others that led to it. I’ll never forget the day I got my acceptance phone call. I’ll also never forget the work it took to get that acceptance. That story deserves to be told.

When things ended in my old program, I had made it to year three of medical school before becoming stuck in limbo with my licensing exam. Year three in my new program is a redemption year for me. I am months away from becoming a senior and I have been reflecting on all it took to get here. So much has happened.

Years ago, I struggled with accepting a one-point failure on an exam where there had been a two-hour power outage, six hours into the eight-hour exam. And I was frustrated in receiving my score the year after the passing mark had been raised by one point and just prior to the announcement that scoring would inevitably change to pass/fail.

The way I see it, I have two choices in perspective. On the one hand, I will have spent five additional years and a significant amount of debt to re-do all of medical school over a one-point exam failure. On the other, I will have spent my entire twenties living through many miracles, chasing my greatest dreams, and growing into the woman I have always hoped I would become.

I remember the sleepless nights in the weeks following my withdrawal from my past program and the search for what was next for me. I had a chance at a fresh start not just in school, but in life. After a significant amount of time spent in medical school with no degree to show for it, I knew that I wanted to enter another graduate program and see it through to its completion.

When faced with the chance to pursue something other than medicine, I decided that, if accepted, the time it would take to complete another medical degree program didn’t scare me. I recognized that the time would pass regardless. The next four years could be spent working a job I was not passionate about or spent working towards what I truly wanted to do with my life. I was determined to pursue the latter.

Destination Global Health

When people learn that I entered medical school twice, they sometimes comment on the sizable amount of money it takes to do such a thing. I viewed this through a similar lens. Just as the next four years would pass whether I was pursuing my dreams or not, the debt from my first matriculation would be there regardless of whether I got the chance to pay it back with a “doctor’s salary” or not. This wasn’t a deterrent.

What concerned me was what would happen in the interim time. It would take a year to apply to medical school again and I was thrown out into the real world with a handful of debt and no way to pay it back. I had been accepted as a Fulbright finalist and had the chance to spend the year abroad, but that was postponed and later canceled due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Plan A and B had fallen through, and there was no plan C.  

Thankfully, I came across a list of resources offered to Fulbrighters impacted by the pandemic. I seized the opportunity to reach out to the director of a Master of Science in Global Health program to apply for expedited admission. God’s timing was impeccable, as per usual. I was accepted right on time to start the fall semester.

I had begun an application for a Master of Fine Arts in writing and considered getting a master’s in public health, but global health won out in the end. I had unknowingly built a resume for it through scholarly opportunities abroad and, whether things worked out with my medical school application or not, I could envision many possibilities within the field.

After enrolling in my global health master’s program, my current plan was secured but my future remained uncertain. I was in the running as a medical school applicant, again. The first time around I had only applied to allopathic programs. This time around I applied to only osteopathic programs. And, as fate would have it, my master’s program was housed within an osteopathic medical school, which was a bonus on my application.

Journey to Acceptance

The thing about applying as a repeat applicant with medical school history is the challenge in getting application committees to see the time spent in medical school as an asset and not a liability. An additional challenge was finding a medical school that would accept my MCAT score (the test you take to get into medical school) from years prior.

I like to think the pandemic gave back to me what it took from me. The original test date for my last attempt at my allopathic licensing exam had been cancelled in randomized test center cancelations due to social distancing. But also due to the pandemic’s impact on standardized testing, MCAT dating cut offs for med school applications were extended. For the program I ultimately ended up at, my dated MCAT score had just made the cut.

I remember writing a letter to the old dean of my past medical school who had given me the chance at my fourth attempt at the exam—the one-point failure. She and I met via zoom where she agreed to write a letter of recommendation on my behalf to my new program. I had also reached out to current students who attended my program of interest. After speaking with two students separately for over an hour, one offered to write me a letter of recommendation and advocacy.

Over the years, people have sent other students my way for encouragement in their own academic hiccups. This has inspired me to keep going. Though, in this trend I recognized a misconception that my switch to osteopathic medical school was an easy task. Nothing about getting into my new program was easy. I hustled. I was hungry for this. And I still am. For that matter, nothing about the program itself is easy. If anything, osteopathic physicians have an extra set of skills and extra training to undergo on top all the other standard parts of medical curriculum.

I digress.

I spent the remainder of application season checking in with the school every so often, updating them about my master’s program and remote research assistant position. I even reached out to the founder of my current medical school after realizing she was an alumnus of the osteopathic medical school my master’s program was housed within. She had serendipitously given a virtual talk for my program, and I saw it as a clear sign that the school she’d founded was the place I needed to be.

But turns out she didn’t believe I would get in. And that’s okay. The way I see it, this only strengthens my discernment that it was by God’s grace alone that I got this second chance and fresh start at medical school.

Something about this medical school stood out to me from the beginning. I had attended multiple interest meetings and I stayed until the very end of one of them. After many potential applicants had signed off, the admissions person said as part of an answer to someone’s question, “I like someone with a story.”

He had no idea who he was speaking to, or any knowledge of the journey that I’d undergone to make it to that call. And I had no idea that the school I was on the call for would change my life by later giving me a chance at a fresh start.

My acceptance came when I least expected it. I was spending time browsing the journals section of TJ Maxx when I glanced down to see a missed phone call. I dropped everything I had in my hand and left the store. I had a feeling who it might have been calling me, but I had no clue returning that phone call would result in me being admitted on the spot. A spot had opened up two weeks before school started and the woman who changed my life forever was calling to see if I wanted it. The praise session that ensued is one I’ll never forget.

What Comes Next

They say getting into medical school is the easy part and staying in is the challenge. And it’s true. Getting into medical school a second time was a hard journey and a blessing all on its own. But staying in has been a miracle. I’m grateful for that.

On my first day of school, the same man who’d said he liked someone with a story greeted me with a huge smile and tons of energy as he exclaimed, “Ashley McCray is here!”

It seemed both my story and my name preceded me. I am blessed that while there are some who can only see my story for its failures, there will always be those who choose to see it for its resiliency.

What comes next for me is uncertain. But I am believing for a pass. I know I can do it.

Until then, I will persevere. And in time, the remaining parts of this story will be told.