An International Student's Road to Medical School

When we think of Asian medical student, we usually think of highly pressured shells of social liveless calculators, who are able to find a sustinance on rice, Spam, and piano lessons.

Then they kick our ass on the MCAT and become the best damn Internists and Surgeons possible.

The more liberal ones? We do family medicine through the shamed whispered tones under our family's beguilment.

Today I tell you the story of another type of Asian medical student.

The kind you don't usually think of.

The kind - from Asia.

...

Growing up, I was told about a young kid who was born in mainland China. During that time period, certain goverment policies made living difficult for people of particular educational backgrounds.

Anyone notice how politically sensitive I wrote that?

Toyin's family was unable to make a good living where he was born, so they subsequently left the small town he was born, relocate in Hong Kong when he was a child.

As the only male child in an Asian family of four children, his destiny was clear: medicine.

Bring face to the family, take them out of poverty. Medicine is to Asian people what sunlight is to flowers - life itself.

And that is where Toyin's story begins.

By the time he was 16, working multiple jobs and keeping together the shattered remains of a broken family, Toyin was sponsered by an uncle to go to Canada.

He had some family in Alberta - his grandfather came during the end of railroad construction and owned a restaurant. He was told Canada was full of gold. Full of opportunity.

That was where the future would be.

Toyin's uncle sponsered him to go to Edmonton. Shortly after he arrived, the uncle passed away.

And then the young man was alone.

Poverty stricken and alone, he worked odd jobs at restaurants and put himself through school. For a time he took work in camps, but ultimately his focus was on the same dream it had always been.

The dream of being a doctor.

He sent back what money he could to his mom back in Hong Kong, to take care of his sisters. He worked and he worked, but in an all too familiar plight,

his marks through high school were not that great. His university marks were adequate, but not super strong.

So he did what any aspireing medical student would do.

He went into pharmacy.

Complething his degree, he worked as a pharmacist for a few short years. He made good money, had a good life.

But he knew he had a dream. He knew it wasn't money or lifestyle that draws people to what he wanted to do.

He wanted to be a doctor due to the passion he had for it.

And that didn't change.

His relatives scoffed at him. As a wealthy pharmacist, why throw away time on another career?

He still fought on.

His relatives laughed at him. Was he stupid? He had a great career already, the money he needed. What else could he want.

He still fought on.

The Road to Medical School continues, irrespective of adversities. The heart of someone who wants to be a doctor, is the heart that drives someone to become a doctor.

He still fought on.

So as is dictated for a pharmacist, he did the logical - applied to medical school.

And he didnt' get in.

As if the fates were using him as a case study for medical students, his path

that had him struggle through university

that had him rejected from medicine

that had him become a pharmacist

that had him rejected from medicine again

led him to what we all know is the unshakable natural progression;

pay a lot of money to go to an International Medical School.

Having gone back to Asia, Toyin applied his work ethic to complete his MD. He found a doctor wife, and she travelled back to Canada with him.

They became married, and they started a life together.

As they were completing their residencies, an unexpected turn of events rocked their lives.

A baby boy was born.

And their lives stopped for a moment. The wife stopped her psychiatry residency, the husband stopped training to be an internist.

Family medicine. Pun and all.

Their world expanded, a beautiful daughter was introduced, their careers bloomed to be professionals well loved in their homes.

Honour was brought to their families.

A great life was built.

So much thanks to the Road traveled in medicine.

...

He became the director of a large Canadian medical organization. His family's medical business expanded.

And then...

His life took another turn.

His family broke apart.

His business went under seige.

His credibility questioned.

But;

He still fought on.

And he will never give up.

...

My father's full name is Dr. Edward Toyin Poon.

An established doctor for 25 years.

He currently is under trial for sexual assault.

He has lived a life that has spanned the world, started a family, built an empire, and helped countless lives.

All from one dream.

To be a doctor.

Today is Father's Day - a time to reflect on the male role models we have had in our lives. Whose stories have affected us in particular ways, sometimes for the better, sometimes elsewise.

Regardless of how difficult, challenging, and changing times we have in our lives, there are some unshakable truths.

We are alive. We have a mother. We have a father.

Dr. Edward Toyin Poon is my father.

He is my dad.

He will always be.

- David

David Poon and the Road to Medical School: Funny Story / Love Story

aka Poon is NOT A SEXIST

aka A Revisionist Love Letter to the Disgustingly Cute

I’m probably never getting married.

And no, hah hah it’s not just because no one would ever bother marrying me.

There are websites for that. And I have my Mommy’s credit card.

No, it’s because I doubt my non-stop repertoire of never ending wit and charm is honestly enough to convince a girl to spend the rest of her life with me.

And no, hah hah that doesn’t mean I’m going to go to men.

I mean, I’m not going to switch to men.

Cause I’m don’t need to switch.

Cause I like girls.

Not men.

No switching needed.

Cause I’m straight.

…

Italics means emphasis, not sarcasm correct?

…

Correct!?!?

^-_-^

I remember during the first year of medical school, we were all put in mandatory sessions to learn something like ‘balance in life,’ ‘avoiding burnout,’ ‘childhood obesity’ you know, generally topics that had no relevance to our careers as doctors, but we’re required to know because someone crashed and burned during school and therefore the Faculty had to institute policies to show they cared.

Hm…

I wonder if next year they are going to introduce “How not to end up like David Poon to the curriculum.”

Hah.

Who am I kidding.

They already have childhood obesity.

One thing that sticks out in my memory the most was the Faculty having one of these sessions, with a very particular piece of advice:

“Your relationships will be strained. You will be on call, you won’t see your family, your spouse will argue with you. Be prepared.”

We then hear about high rates of divorce amongst surgeons, and how women in residencies typically put off having kids.

I’m not being sexist here, I mean it’s just very difficult to have a child and not take maternity leave (not that women HAVE to), so many women choose (BECAUSE IT IS THEIR CHOICE BECAUSE THEY ARE AUTONOMOUS IN AN EQUAL OPPORTUNITY WORLD) to have children later in life (NOT THAT BEING OLDER MATTERS BECAUSE A WOMAN’S AGE DOES NOT AFFECT HER CAREER, PERSONALITY, OR MARRIAGE PROSPECTS).

Additionally, because of the nature of medicine (long hours, call shifts taking you away from home) marriages can just fall apart.

So forgive me that my relationship jadedness was further exacerbated by that little piece of advice.

Fine, chalk it up to immaturity.

When we first heard this talk, a good handful of us were probably immature too. And not just because of age, some of us just hadn’t been in a real relationship.

About six of us, me included, were 19 when we got into med.

How well do you think we could handle relationships and medicine at the same time.

I mean really, if I can barely handle girls now…

How well do you think I could handle women 4 years ago?

And just to clarify….

I don’t mean handle women physically.

Cause I’ve never been allowed to.

I mean, handle them emotionally.

Not that they NEED to be handled per se…

Cause they’re not objects.

To be objectified.

Cause independent creatures don’t need handling.

Cause they don’t need to be controlled.

Cause they can’t be.

Not that women should be controlled!

Cause they’re not animals!

OR CREATURES FOR THAT MATTER!?!??!

I’M NOT A SEXIST!!!!!

I’m heterosexual!

NOT THAT I FEEL THE NEED TO REASSERT THAT EVERY TIME I MEET NEW GUYS.

AND I DON’T MEAN “GUYS” LIKE MEN.

AND I DON’T MEAN “GUYS LIKE MEN”

CAUSE I LIKE GIRLS.

…

I met this half Asian, half not Asian girl my first week of med. She was the same age as me (and therefore TOO OLD FOR ME TO DATE), and I thought she would be a great friend to me.

Luckily, this half breed girl had a broken leg, so couldn’t run away from me. Which I guess in retrospect makes her the perfect female in my books.  

In short she met this half Asian, half not Asian boy a few months later. They got married recently, after years of dating.

At any wedding here in Canada, convention states that the ‘dinging’ of a class with a utensil demands a kiss from the newlyweds.

Course in the marriage of two half breeds, there is really only half convention.

So at their wedding, we ding our glasses – but before they would kiss, the requisite was a “funny story’ about the couple had to be told.

There were naturally the tearful stories of friendship from the bridesmaids (not that women only cry) and the plethora of sexual innuendos from the groomsmen. The drunk uncles (made much funnier by the fact that that they were drunk ASIAN uncles) held the spotlight whenever baby stories were needed.

Missing something though.

These two people… they met in medical school

Now, I started with both the half-breeds, and realizing that my entire class is far too polite to embarrass the happy couple, that left me to tell the tales that were unmentioned.

Seated at the table with me was my Vice Dean of the Faculty of Medicine. Knowing that I have my fledging stand up comedy career and a “hilarious” website that confuses the copious use of punctuation marks as humour, she suggested I say something.

And as we all know, as the great medical student I am, I follow medical orders to the tee.

Believe it or not, I’m not nearly as funny as I lie to myself. My spontaneity, hidden amongst a plethora of dramatic silent beats and puns, is actually a result of planned anecdotes running concurrently with a thesaurus.

Pretty much, I had to think of something.

And I thought…

Definitely talk about their public displays of affection (PDA).

One of the bridesmaids mentioned how over the first few weeks, the girl slowly started sitting in the front row to be next to the boy.

I sat in front row too.

I think it’s safe to say I started moving towards the back.

I doubt I’ll ever be able to wash the image of him functionally GROPING her scalp in front of all 140+ of us in class one day.

It’s like how in a movie theatre, you expect people having sex to be doing it in the back.

So you sit in the front, so you can see the movie in peace.

Except in this case, replace movie with fundamentally important mandatory learning, put the innocent bystanders in the back, and place disgustingly cute somewhere in the unavoidable in between.

Oh oh, and I got to mention one time they invited me to go to the park with them.

She, in her short shorts, and he in his tank top…

… touch Frisbee has forever been scarred in my mind.

Emphasis on the word touch, incaseyoumissedit.

But I scrapped that idea for a speech, cause honestly, I embarrassed the couple enough for potentially accidentally buying them some sort of softcore porn called ‘Young Doctors in Love’ as a wedding gift instead of a toaster.

I figured it would be hot enough in the old breadmaker.

Get it?

A pun.

Like toast.

…

But then it occurred to me that the funniest story may be the oddest one…

The fact that the story existed at all.

I wanted to tell the story of a girl from a small rural town in Alberta. She dreamed of bringing back to the isolated communities, yet ironically grew up alienated from her own family as she grew older.

How through sheer determination, she became the top of her class over and over again despite circumstances dictating that she would have to do it alone.

How at 19, her work ethic and focus led her to medical school. And led her to meet her future husband.

I wanted to tell the story of how she inspired me. A girl no older than I, with far fewer supports and privileges, who overcame nigh unbearable odds.

Who ultimately had the courage to rely on her future husband, even if she didn’t know it at the time.

While I struggled and fought, kicked and screamed, cried and hurt alone,

she opened her soul that had been so long neglected, gave her heart to a man who at times seemed solely to exist to hold it.

She was young like me

but brave.

As my own life collapsed, I could not find my peace. My devotion to medicine overpowered my responsibilities to myself.

As her life fell apart, she gained new strength in medicine – her partner, in her class, could share her every pain

from losing her first patient

to delivering her first baby.

Whether she was next to him in first row, or away from him for a year in Rural Family medicine, her strength, her inspiration, her capacity for and from the person she loved made all the difference.

…

I wanted to tell the story of a girl who knew the value of something I will forever regret not knowing the value of sooner.

She knew the value of love.

The power of an unconditional bond in the darkest of moments.

The pleasure of going to class with someone you know you want to spend every moment of your life with.

The end of call shifts, collapsing beside a person who, despite staying up for the past 26 hours plus, is never too tired to hear you whine, complain, or most importantly, cry.

I dinged my glass.

Got up to the microphone.

The groom said, “Now I’m scared. Is this about a toaster?”

My classmates smiled, “Maybe he’ll say something funny… for once.”

I started;

“Funny story.

Med school was wrong.

You can find love.”

In between the public fondling, grossly absurd public displays of affection, and sometimes just sickeningly cute couple talk;

I realized how they made each other stronger.

In every painful experience on the wards, there was another experience that the couple could share.

Within the madness of choosing a specialty for their individual futures, they understood how simple their decision really was, simply because what mattered was already there; they were together.

The stress of medicine didn’t tear them apart.

It bonded them together.

In a profession where the darkest moments of despair consume you…

In palliative care, where an old man watches his wife become decimated by cancer.

In neonatal, where a young couple prays for their first born.

In the wards, where some kid plays with his DS while her bedridden grandpa sleeps another day away.

In the ICU, where the solitary beep of the heart monitor is your patient’s only companion.

You learn the value of love.

You learn to appreciate it.

You learn exactly what it means to find it.

And you learn exactly how beautiful it is to have it.

On the Road to Medical School, we were all prepared to compromise on our emotions. We were all ready to sacrifice our happiness for our careers, our relationships for our goals.

But I saw something different.

I saw the impossible.

I saw four halves make a whole.

And I am truly blessed to have witnessed such a spectacle.

Funny story.

I figure I’d like to get married someday.

Just, after I get my MD.

I’m fully Asian, after all.

- David

Site Updates: Wacky banter, late updates, and advertisments.

Falling... asleep.

Will be posting a new chapter in the Road to Medical School with in 24 hours. 

I know, I know, I keep putting it off. 

But at least I'm not off putting.

...

Well, maybe to the ladies.

I posted a newPOON Classic (totally ironic, late/new, GET IT?!?!!?!) describing my deft experiment with sleep. 

Also, a few new points regarding doyoubelieve.ca itself:

My sister felt the need to start "defending" herself in my Tweets that may be somewhat "totally incorrect." 

Since she and I have pretty enjoyable banter when she is COMPLETELY WRONG I figured I'd let her have a concurrent Twitter feed to keep me "h

onest."

Or to "quote" "her" for the "truth"

"Everything my brother has said about me is a lie."

Sheesh, if she was always around I'd never get to date a girl.

Heck

if she spoke up about my thoughts

I doubt I'd ever TALK to one ever again. 

Then again. I still haven't. 

Someday... a pretty girl will talk to me, and it will be special. 

- David

Also advertisements. If you click, I get like, a penny. 

That's like twice my going rate on the street!

What Ever Happened to David Poon

aka Whatever Happened to David Poon
aka Goodbye Class of 2010

aka What I Wish I Had Said; What I Want to Say Now

aka How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Poon

aka WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN DAVID!?!?!?

It's hard disappearing. 

To convince everyone that you're gone. 

Any good magician makes it look easy. To be somewhere, then vanish as if your presence was as transient as their bunny rabbit's dignity. 

Course, the only magic I can do is with my charm. 

...

On the ladies.

notwithstanding my magic fingers.

...

In my cooking. 

to seduce the ladies.

With italics.

Damn did I miss the Poon Blog. 

Does anyone still read this? 

I don't think even my Mommy does. 

I mean, I haven't put anything up in months. 

Get it? 

Up.

...

Up.

It's funny. 

I'm hilarious.

See how effectively I use critical rhythm beats to my humour? 

It's so clever. 

...

Honestly, I should just address the plain issue that a majority of you are reading this because you haven't seen me in an upwards of 12 months and need some confirmation I'm still alive. 

Look, the Backstreet Boys are having (another) comeback tour, and since as long as there'll be music I'll be coming back again, it's a safe bet you'll have enough Poon in your system. 

Like if I was cooking for you without a hairnet. 

Hah!

I've rebuilt doyoubelieve.ca, and now, I promise, I'll be updating the Poon Blog regularly, with major updates Tuesday and Friday, alongside daily postings. I'll keep them organized in the Pages section on the sidebar. 

It's probably a coward's way out of explaining what's happened to me over the last little while. 

Since this is the Poon Blog, I'm obligated to say I'm Asian. Therefore, using broad stereotypical generalizations, I am yellow. 

And for old readers, I would be amiss if I didn't mention David Poon: And the Road to Medical School, the EPICALLY EPIC narrative I started almost three years ago. As my wonderfully most controversial set, it chronicles the difficulty of premed life, and I've since been adding in Ward Stories, what I feel to be a very personal viewpoint of a medical student finding a sense of self in the awe inspiring beauty of the hospital. 

Anyway, I'll be keeping it going. Despite the fact that every premed in existence hates it. 

And, well, every OTHER premed in existence wants me to finish the story. 

Also, starting Tuesday, I'll launch a new series, 'What Fiction Has Taught Me," which is my own take on how Disney movies, comic books, Saturday Morning Cartoons, and Pokemon have shaped me as a person. 

If you are a nerd, it is your DUTY to read that series. 

Most importantly, to my old friends, the ones I've neglected for so long. 

I am so sorry. I will see you soon. I just wasn't ready to say hello again. 

Let me start...

It's been three months that I've been hidden away from everyone.

One year since I've been updating my blog. 

18 months since my mom, the greatest doctor I know, had a heart attack.

Two years since I've been missing from my original med class the 2010s.

...

Two years since my father, a doctor, was initially charged with sexual assault. 

Two weeks until his trial begins. 

And just about the right time for me to stop disappearing. 

...

To half of you, nothing I've said is really new. You already knew about it, from the media, or from the grapevine. 

To the other half, you just saw me get up and leave one day. I've heard some of the rumours... kinda true, not really. 

Please, let me tell you the truth. 

I know it's been on the back of the minds of most everyone I've spoken to back home in Saskatchewan. The minute it was declared a criminal case against my father, it was on the front page of the paper, all over the news, and I even found a few forum postings online about the absurdity that a Dr. Poon was charged with sexual assault. 

Heck, the absurdity of my last name is what I build my entire damn comedy shtick on. 

But it's all changed. The whispers of every friend, relative, colleague I knew in my home province, though always feebly shielded from my ears, were on the tips of their tongues and on the back of their minds. 

It was something I couldn't talk about. 

Be it for shame, or insecurity, damned confusion, or sheer debilitation, I simply could not talk about it. 

And every friend, relative, colleague I knew in my home province did their best to comfort me in their own special way. 

But...

I wasn't home. 

I was studying in Alberta, in Edmonton. 

Where the news wasn't public. 

Where no one knew. 

Where I couldn't possibly express myself. 

Where I was alone in my own dissonance. 

And I couldn't tell a soul. 

...

Today, my classmates of the 2010 class graduated. They are all doctors now. Four years ago, I began with them, 19 years old and doing everything at once. 

As time went on, and the background problems in my personal life began to surmise, I became increasingly pessimistic, jaded with the difficulties I was beginning to face. 

I coped with erraticism. 

And that is the David Poon my Alberta colleagues got to know me by. 

A new friend I got to know told me yesterday that "I knew about you David, before I even met you."

"How is that so?"

"Well, I was walking in the med sci building and two medical students were talking about you, your comedy, stuff like that."

"That's nice, what did they say?"

"Um."

"Hm?"

"Essentially some people think you're a complete idiot. Other people think you're a genius."

Honestly?

^-_-^

After the criminal accusations against my father went public, there was a very difficult period for my family regarding lawyers, accountants, and honestly every facet of my life was put under scrutiny - what worked got tested, what didn't work got destroyed. 

It was painful. It was horrific. I was lost. 

Later that year my mom had a heart attack. 

In one of the six clinics my parents owned, from the stress of the work. 

I was in Edmonton, alone. 

I'd like to tell you that I knew how to cope. I want to state, "I was strong enough to deal."

My parents divorced shortly after - my mom's health in suspense, my father's name under fire, the family business dissipating as my family broke apart. 

I want to write that, "I figured out how to put it all together. I learned how to manage healthily."

By that time of my life, I was in a relationship with someone I can confidently say I felt a bond with I have never had in my life. For two an a half years, I confided and felt for her in a manner I never believed I was capable of. 

I took out my angst, my pain, my contempt on her. An innocent Soul in my own corrupt perversion of life. I pushed her away when I needed to be close. I've never had my heart broken before, and I split my own in mad frustration. 

I want to say, "I did what I could. I made the best decisions I could."

I still don't know what I would say. 

Somewhere along the line, I left medical school. The MD I worked my entire adult life for, put on hold as I attempted to react to a world I simply wasn't prepared for. 

Naturally I learned to cope with the one skill I felt was worth anything. My humour. 

Some people just don't think I'm funny. 

I'm okay with that. 

I just hope that before I am written off as a nonsense complete idiot - that maybe the benefit of the doubt can be given that there is a reason I have been the way I am. 

A medical student advisor told me that "People can have crisises in life. They learn to deal with them. But you David, you had multiple really significant problems in a very short time span."

Another faculty member told me "I'm surprised you're still standing."

I tried. I really tried. 

...

I did not graduate with an MD today. 

And I like to think, someone noticed. I like to wonder, which of my classmates remembered I wasn't there. 

And I look over my messages over the past two years, over all the e-mails I never replied to, the texts I never returned, and the calls I never picked up. 

And it kills me that I never explained myself. 

In two weeks, my father goes to trial. Publicly. All the secrets of my family's pains will rear their ugly head.

In two days, I will go to the 2010 graduation and see my colleagues that I have avoided one last time. 

In brief, I will reappear. 

To my beloved Tenderloins, the University of Alberta MD Class of 2010;

I miss you. 

Please pass this blog link to anyone you think might care. 

Because I don't want to spend our last night lamenting pains of the past. I don't want to waste time explaining my problems, and you patiently listening, when the music is inviting, and the slideshow is warming. 

I want to reflect on the people we are, and the memories we share. 

And I'm ready to share some of mine with you. 

For all the unanswered questions, I am ready to restart the Poon Blog. Over the past year, in my struggle, I forgot the joy I had in writing. I neglected my own delights, and worse, fulminated my own grief in some bizarre requiem for my own happiness.

I think I will put that to rest now. The dead, after all, are to be buried. Life is for the living. 

I know a countless number of you have kindly given me your ears if I need to talk about it. I know I have no shortage of support when I need a friend. 

I just wasn't ready. 

Perhaps an equal number of you are just glad I'm finally addressing the issue of my father's case. I mean, me avoiding the subject was a little eerie in itself. 

Let's reconnect guys. Let's pick up and start fresh. New lives, new perspectives, new futures. 

It seems appropriate, that I reintroduce myself. 

...

Hello, my name is David Edward-Ooi Poon. Edward is named after my father. Ooi is my Mommy's maiden name. 

I'm a medical student. I'm really proud of that, cause I worked really hard. I've worked my entire life to be a doctor, and I am going to change the face of Environmental Medicine in this country. 

I'm going to take a break from med school for a little while, until my father's impending criminal court case is relatively settled. 

It's been a hard past couple of years. 

Though, it's also been pretty amazing. 

Over the past two years, I've been in Kenya doing water filtration, and in China doing Traditional Chinese Medicine. I've brought bomb calorimeters through international airports (without bribes!) and did my first real stand up comedy show at the West Edmonton Mall. 

I was a Rhodes Scholar Finalist twice, and was published by the Lancet - I learned to make biryani and food poisoned my little sister. 

I built my own Macintosh computer, and I broke a real Macintosh. 

I played video games. Without guilt. 

I competed in national business competitions. I won a few awards. Got thousands of dollars into debt. Figured out that being president of a dying business is still heartbreakingly awesome. 

I invented a game. I copyrighted a learning tool. And I think I taught a few kids something, halfway through yelling at me. 

I got a bachelors degree. 

I helped a couple premeds. And hey, to be fair - they're meds now. 

I got ALOT of premeds pissed off at me. 

I applied to law school, and realized I should be in med.

I learned to vent, and I learned to heal. 

I neglected my best friends. I remembered my best friends. 

I learned the bro code, and I learned that I have brothers where blood gave me none.

I lost my mentor. I found strength in myself. 

I learned to love. I learned to truly, passionately, love without feeling loved back. 

I learned that love changes. And that I was wrong when I felt unloved. 

I became patient. I became a patient. I learned to treat a patient. 

I mastered puns!

I realized the importance of family. The responsibilities of being an older brother to the unconditional devotion of an incredible younger sister. The unshakable, cherished bond between a mother and son, unwavering in tides of struggle or turmoil. The respect for a father. 

I stopped lamenting what I didn't have. And stood in humble appreciation in knowing what I always did have. 

In the past two years, I remembered that I am David Poon, and that is nothing to be ashamed about. I can forgo the self deprecation, and build on realistic self critique. I can do away with my endless need to be liked, and quite honestly, be confident without the need to justify myself to perceived judges. 

My responsibilities to others are not indicative of my responsibilities to their faults. My values are my own. My choices are my own. My consequences, my passions, my life. 

I want to be a doctor. I know that without a doubt now. 

When I return to medical school, I promise, I will be more dedicated and focused to the health of the human condition than ever before. 

Heh. 

I may be so bold to say that I'll be as dedicated to medicine as a premed.

Heh... get it? Bold to say it?? But in ITALICS!?!?!?!?

I'm freaking hilarious. 

...

It's hard disappearing. 

It's even harder reappearing. 

Where does a magician go when he's gone? Is he really gone or is he just unseen? 

What do we know, and does it make sense? What don't we know, and what are we missing?

In the time we see nothing, are we so focused on what isn't, that we forget to imagine what is? 

There, in these moments of apprehension, uncertainly, while we speculate of desolation and tragedy, we also wonder of hope, aspirations, and most surprisingly, theories of what exactly is happening in the background. To reassure us. To comfort us. And to give us some peace that there may in fact be some reasoning to the absurd.

The audience knows what's going to happen in the end. Whoever disappeared is obviously going to come back. 

However, 

and this is important;

any good magician will tell you that the most critical part of a disappearing act...

is in the reveal. 

...

These are my stories. 

I want to share them with you.

Take a seat, please; I'm not leaving anytime soon.

I just got back. 

- David

David Poon and the Road to Medical School: Pit Stop

David Poon and the Road to Medical School: Pit Stop

DISCLAIMER: My blog drips of sarcasm and offbeat, attempted humour. If you dislike amateur comedians, um... how did you get here!? Also, no one loves me. Keep the comments coming!

(continued from

Prologue: Premeds
http://howmanycharacterscaniuse.blogspot.com/2008/07/predavid-poon-and-road-to-medical.html

Part One: Asian Fail
http://howmanycharacterscaniuse.blogspot.com/2008/07/david-poon-and-road-to-medical-school.html

NOTE: This post is out of continuity in regards to the epic 4 part (plus prologue) literary opus that is 'David Poon and the Road to Medical School' - it's simply set up to show non meds how the system works.

Also, I am now officially a blogger. I've posted this series (from my original Facebook series) at:

http://howmanycharacterscaniuse.blogspot.com

... so people who are not my Facebook friends can read. As mentioned, the series is supposed to share my perspective on how I got into medicine so it may benefit someone who currently is looking to get in, or colleagues who want to share a laugh. I should explain that more. I posted a link on:

http://www.premed101.com/forums/showthread.php?t=28359

... cause I thought people might like it.

Wow, was I wrong.

Readers, I'm officially a blogger now because I have HATE MAIL! Browse through the above couple links to see all of it, but my personal favorite bump on the head is:

"I would never want you to be my doctor."

Another choice piece:

"Your blog is the biggest piece of bullshit on the internet."

ON THE INTERNET! What a compliment!! Literally millions of different sites, pages, blogs, pornos, bullshit sites, pages, blogs, and pornos, and MINE is the biggest!!! I'm such a web celebrity.

You really got to read those. Seriously. While you're there, I'd love it if you could defend my honour. Or continue to flame me...

I'm good at being flaming.

So now I'm feeling sad today. Medicine made me sad today. Are you guys enjoying this at all? The Internets, they hates me.

Thank you for all the great comments, they're really something special.)


At this point, I get into the finer, dirtier details of the application process to get into medical school. Premeds know it inside and out (much unlike their knowledge of girls), but reasonable people haven't studied the process as intently (obsessively?).

Relax, I'm one of the nerds too. I'm writing this up all by memory.

Medical schools across the country have separate criteria for entrance, but most follow some basic principals:

1) Academic component. Get high marks in a certain number of required classes, plus non required classes. Can be done through studying or bribes (I prefer sexual favours). Usually requires students to complete at least a bachelor's degree. Easy, since dating as a premed is impossible. Get it? Bachelor's. I'm hilarious.

2) Medical College Admissions Test (MCAT). Cut off your testicles, you won't need them for the ball crushing 8 hour behemoth of an exam that takes advantage of you and makes you smile about it. Assesses your biology, physics, verbal reasoning (ie. guesswork) skills, as well as the ability to write constructive arguments. Only allowed to be written at certain times of the year, like seasonal changes. That want to kill you.

3) Essay/Personal Profile/Application Questions. Some sort of written assessment of who you are. In my case, I wrote the phrase “I was a cheerleader.” Seriously!

4) Interview. Kind of like real job interviews, but far less controlled back in my day. Now the med school interviews are a variant of speed dating. 9 minutes in a room with one person. No one talks about what happens in there. I'm guessing it's very sexy, hopefully resulting in an increase of beautiful people in the classes to come.

And finally there are international medical schools, where there is an additional criterion: Incredible Wealth. We're talking hundreds of thousands of dollars buy the end of it all.

There are three schools in Canada that accept students into medical school after 2 years of undergrad: University of Alberta (in Edmonton), University of Saskatchewan (in Saskatoon), and the University of Calgary (in Guelph I think). Quebec raised students can also go to Quebec schools in that amount of time, but they have some creepy French grade 13 system that requires you to choose if you want to learn math OR English for the rest of your life. Explains the number of people working at coffee shops.

Also explains the competition.

I came to the UofS with something like a 96 average in grade 11 and a 94 in grade 12. Which means shit all nothing, cause high school grades are like a balloon – full of hot air and wayyyy too inflated. Anyone who tells you they had a 90 percent average in high school was very good at one thing: talking. “Talking” to teachers to get higher marks they “deserve,” every time it was below a 90. That sort of thing. Or they are phenomenal cheaters. I'm kinda in both camps.

Those I went to school with may remember I never talked about my marks. I thought it was stupid that people judged you by them. But the reason I mention them now is because numbers are an essential part to the competitive spirit. In sports, your numbers decide on who wins. In curling, your numbers decide who gets free Tim Hortons. Or free Hearts, or something.

In medicine, your numbers decide who gets in. I assume most premeds have taken out their calculators by now to figure out their average.

The constant obsessing over averages can be seen in this commonplace scenario:

(Guy sits alone on kitchen table, calculator in one hand. On table are his report cards since grade 7. In his other hand is a glass of Sunny D.)

“Okay, if I get 87 percent on my chem final, I'll get a...

(tick tick tick tick)

... 93.15 in the class, which would bring my overall average to a...

(tick tick tick tick)

... 92.266 if you count my first maths, dropping my third lowest mark. But that means on my English final I can only get...

(tick tick tick tick)

... three questions wrong, but luckily I did the bonus assignment which I probably got only a half mark off because I copied off of David Poon and he sleeps with the teacher, so...

(tick tick tick tick)

... I'll have a high enough average to pick up chicks in the bar! Hey baby, you can call me 95.6! Hey, 95.6 rhymes with chicks!! I'M A GENIUS!!!”

'Tick tick tick tick' can also be the sound of his girlfriend's ovarian clock as her fertile time slowly fades away in a pile of bright cover pages and bibliographies.

Good form of birth control though. Guess premeds are kinda smart.

- David

censored

censored

Project David Doesn't Sleep: Days 1 - 3

Continues from the start

(will add more later)

November 7th 2005

PDDS: Day One
Luckily, since I went to the Social Code concert last night and didn't get alot of sleep, I was fairly tired and was able to nap for about an hour and a half at about 13:30. I hope I'll be tired enough later on to sleep at 11 PM... I'm used to about nineteen awesome hours of staring into darkness before bed. I guess I'll just sleep listening to Good Charlotte to compensate.

It is November 7th and I am alive.

- David

This might be fun.

Comments --------------------------

Lady-Raire
November 08 12:14:53 AM
(http://spaces.msn.com/members/Lady-Raire/)
David, I think you should listen to reality, and not be crazy! Sleep is good. . .you need it. . .beauty sleep. . .really, you do!

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November 8th 2005
PDDS: Day Two
Dear People of the World:

I, David Poon, am a phenomenal failure. While I did sleep between 13:30 - 15:00 on Nov 7th as expected, I completely missed my 22:00 sleep deadline. I stayed up till around 3:00, at which point I ate all the mint chocolate chip ice cream in my condo (seriously) in order to drown my sorrow, suffocating me into sweet unconsciousness.

If that was the low point of Day Two, I would have considered myself lucky.

I completely missed my wake up call and slept till about eight. At which point I realized I was almost late for my hair appointment with an Asian hair stylist. I had no idea where he works, so I started my morning screaming and running into my sexy minivan. Too bad it had snowed.

If that was the low point of Day Two, I wouldn't be so destroyed.

As it turns out, I didn't get the Asian hairstylist. The one time I wanted to SEE an Asian guy, I didn't get one. One billion of them in the world, and my stylist was a Caucasian woman who told me that I had to rid myself of toxins by applying 'essential oils' to my sweat glands... which are apparently part of my lymph system? My LYMPH SYSTEM?

If that was the strangest part of Day Two, I wouldn't be listening to Simple Plan.

After she convinced me to have a pedicure, I rushed to class. Did I fall asleep? Maybe. But I'm not telling my prof that. Whoa - I just realized I have to write a quiz tomorrow... good thing I no longer sleep or I'd freak out.

If that was the low point of Day Two, I wouldn't be quoting Simple Plan.

Speaking of academic evaluations, today I got the lowest midterm mark I have ever received in my Physiological Psych class. It's a good thing I have THE GREATEST AND MOST BEAUTIFUL AND MOST COMPASSIONATE AND MOST UNDERSTANDING PSYCHOLOGY PROFESSOR IN THE WORLD (who I gave my blog address to...)

If that was the low point of Day Two, then five hours of computer Java program must be orgasmic.

At around 18:00 today, I volunteered in my group, the 'Student Health Initiatives Program' to write a paper for the campus to read, regarding health problems among students. I chose sleep deprivation. Look for it around the UofS campus in three weeks.

I fell asleep in the computer lab from 19:00 - 19:30.

It is November 8th and I bought Charlie and the Chocolate Factory on DVD.

- David

This is going to be harder than I thought.

Comments --------------------------


Matt
November 09 12:53:06 AM
(http://spaces.msn.com/members/mattsawsomness/)
wasnt leaonardo a crack head? that probably helped with the lack of sleep- or was that Froud, ya hes the cracked out the guy...sleeps overrated anyways ;)

Honda___S2000
November 09 12:07:23 AM
Why do I even read this; David your outrageous ignorance runs so deep that it makes me want to cry.

SachinTrivedi
November 08 10:10:50 PM
Wow... Sounds like fun

------------------------------------

November 10th 2005

PDDS: Day Three
I'd like to be optimistic, but it's not looking good.

I missed my 22:00 naptime. I didnt' black out till about 3:30, and yes, got up about five horus later. It looks like my body is adjusting to five hours of sleep, which is nice, but two hours too many. Three, one hour naps, is the key.

Indeed, I woke up to be late for class. So I figured I'd just skip. It was good though, because I could have breakfast, which ws actually supposed to be my 4 AM snack - grilled salmon and miso soup. READ: THAW SALMON BEFORE GRILLING.

...

READ: THAW SALMON BEFORE MARINATING.

Additional to that healthy breakfast, I dosed myself with an equally nutritious rush of energy drink. I didn't bother reading the brand, but it had the word 'MONSTER' on it.... Waking up with a monster? No different than a night at the Scuz.

READ: DO NOT MARINATE SALMON IN ENERGY DRINKS.

Thanks to that little pick-me up, I was awake for most of the day. However, as usual, my uni day was harder than Roman Polanski at a kindergarten class. Linux is the bane of my existence, and I can't program worth S'toon water. Yes, I know I'm Asian. I can't do Kung Fu either.

I had my friend drive my sexy minivan home while I did programming on the laptop. I fell asleep for about 20 minutes at approximately 20:00.

It is November 9th yet I'm posting this blog on November 10th.

- David

It's been a rough week.


Comments --------------------------

Lady-Raire
November 10 4:32:12 PM
(http://spaces.msn.com/members/Lady-Raire/)
What did I tell you david? Why don't you listen to me?

------------------------------------