printable versionButterflies take over as expectant medical students await the annual 'match'
BY SUSAN IPAKTCHIAN
Wearing his lucky St. Patrick’s Day beads, medical student Peter Jun (center) prepares to read his Match Day letter to his wife, Irene (right), and classmate Gary Lau. Jun will be doing a radiology residency at the University of California-San Francisco.
At 42, Al Taira is about 15 years older than many of his medical school classmates. But age is no barrier against nerves.
As he stood in the lobby of Fairchild Auditorium the morning of March 17 while he and the rest of the graduating class waited to find out where they would be serving their residencies, Taira—who had left a career as an international business consultant five years earlier to attend medical school—was 15 minutes away from knowing where he would receive his training in radiation oncology.
"There's so much up in the air, and you care so much," Taira said amid the hubbub of energetic chatter that saturated the room. "Being surrounded by all of these people is wonderful. It doesn't calm me down, but at least it makes me feel like we're all in this together."
He added, "Overall, I am nervous."
So were his classmates as they waited for the annual Match Day ritual to begin. The National Residency Matching Program pairs graduating medical students and residency programs where they'll receive their next three to seven years of training, depending on their specialty. Students submit their top three residency choices, and the participating hospitals rank their preferred resident candidates. Sophisticated software does the matching, and the results are delivered to medical students simultaneously throughout the country.
According to Terrence Blaschke, MD, associate dean for medical student advising, 62 Stanford students participated in this year's match. Of that total, 69 percent matched with their first choice and 89 percent got one of their top-three choices.
As it drew closer to 10 a.m., Dean Philip Pizzo, MD, stood before the Stanford students to congratulate them. "I'm looking at my watch, and the hour has come," he said to the cheering crowd. Then he cautioned: "We won't be providing any emergency medical aid in here today."
Julie Parsonnet, MD, senior associate dean for medical education, called the students' names alphabetically, and they stepped forward to claim their envelopes. Some opened them right away while others waited until all the names were called.
One of the early peekers was Ray Cho, a self-described 13th-year MD/PhD student dressed for the occasion in a silver-sequinned shirt and green and purple Mardi Gras beads. "I usually wear the shirt to weddings and funerals, and today seemed like a good combination of both," he said.
Cho entered medical school in 1991 and completed his two years of pre-clinical studies before concentrating on earning his PhD in genetics. During that time, he and a fellow MD/PhD student decided to start a company that makes genetics software, so he took a four-and-a-half-year absence from his studies.
He came back to Stanford a few years ago to complete his medical degree. His match letter told him he'd be serving a residency in dermatology at UC-San Francisco—his top choice. "This feels like the start of a good relationship," he said.
For Albert Chevez, director of the school's MD admissions program, this year's match was particularly nerve-racking. His wife, Shari, is graduating, and her top choice was a pediatrics residency at Stanford. If she matched at a hospital outside of the Bay Area, though, it would mean relocating and Albert would be looking for another job.
Fortunately, Shari Chevez got her wish; they'll be staying at Stanford. "I'm so excited," she said as she got a congratulatory hug from Ted Sectish, MD, director of the pediatric residency program.
Her husband shared her joy and her relief. "I didn't really 'match'—I mean, in a way I did, but I didn't think I would be so nervous," Albert Chevez said as Shari chatted with her classmates. "Right now, I feel tired and drained."
At the back of the room, Taira, the 42-year-old student, was among those who waited until all of the envelopes had been handed out before learning his fate. His hands shook slightly as he opened his envelope and laid the crisply folded letter across his palm.
His journey to this moment was slightly unusual. With an undergraduate degree in economics from Stanford, Taira enjoyed his work as a business consultant. But an interest in medicine percolated and grew over the years. Before making a final decision to change careers, Taira spent a lot of time talking to doctors and working at a hospice. The experiences confirmed that medicine, particularly working with cancer patients, was where he wanted to be.
And now, he was literally holding his future in his hands.
After staring at the letter for several seconds, he unfolded the top portion, seeing little beyond his name and address, and quickly folded it back down. He tried again but didn't get any further than he did the first time. Finally, he took a breath and unfolded the full letter.
"It's Seattle," he said, clutching his stomach with his left hand and letting out prolonged sigh before hugging his wife, Martha. "We're going to Seattle."
The residency at the University of Washington was his second choice, and Taira said he was extremely happy with his match. "Right now, what I'm feeling is relief," he said. "I'm sure that it will eventually turn into excitement, but right now it's just a relief."
