Questions have arisen elsewhere about how to finance the pre-reqs for med school if one already has a degree.
I can only say what has worked for me in the past, as currently, I'm paying out of pocket for my educational expenses.
First, check to see how much you borrowed, if any, as an undergraduate. Check to see the total amount owing. This amount will be used against the total amount allowed under federal guidelines. The difference is what you are eligible from a financial perspective only. This amount is NOT what WILL be paid, only what you are eligible to receive.
Second, check the guidelines. Subtract what you owe from the guidelines. Currently, that amount listed by
http://www.finaid.org/loans/studentloan.phtml
is $57,500. Therefore, if you currently owe $20,000 the top amount you could conceivably obtain in student loans to pursue the pre-reqs post undergraduate completion, is $37,500.
Third, you MUST be either a student completing pre-reqs for a professional degree (which some schools will say is not true for medical school) OR a degree seeking student outside your original degree/college.
For instance, an English major with a B.A. degree cannot get funding to the College of Liberal Arts to complete a second degree as a CLA degree seeking student again. However, if that same student becomes a degree seeking biology major within the College of Biological Science, the eligibility is kept intact.
Fourth, fill out the FAFSA form found here
http://www.fafsa.ed.gov/
For ALL federal financial aid this is a requirement. Submit the code numbers of the schools you are taking courses at.
Fifth, contact the school's financial aid office and let them know you've completed all the above steps and ask for any other types of funding available i.e. scholarships for disabilities, minorities, under-represented populations, athletes, social clubs, philanthropic organizations, etc. Many of those do not care if there is a former degree, only that there is an affiliation and/or a solid GPA.
Sixth, and this is critical: if med school is going to cost between $150,000 and $230,000 take a deep breath and think about how much it might be worth to NOT accrue any more debt before medical school. Can you pay the tuition required by downsizing your wants vs. needs and use that money for school? Can you stop going out on weekends and save the money? How about not buying more clothes until your medical school acceptance letter arrives and saving that money?
Last, take a deep breath and don't give up. There are numerous ways to fund classes required before med school applications.
Good luck!!
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Out Of The Blue...
An anonymous message comes, a tiny little reminder of support and answers I sometimes seek but don't always acknowledge.
Thirty-five years ago, I was staring at a lonely life of a student who's desk was not allowed in the classroom. Each day I'd come to school as a 1st through 3rd grader to find my desk in the hallway. The teachers were often cruel, and mean spoken. They told my parents often how horrible I was as a child, that I was problematic, inattentive, outspoken, could not sit still, and therefore, not allowed in the classroom setting except for movies, nap time, and phy-ed.
If I asked a question, I was ignored. If I needed help, I was told to figure it out.
My 3rd grade teacher who hated me, made me lead character, the donkey, in a play. While the play was being put on the entire elementary school jeered at me. I could hear the names most often associated with donkey being called out. The teacher did nothing but sit there.
That changed when I started 4th grade.
That teacher had a gift. He had the gift of caring about his students, wanting to help them, and my desk,
was in the classroom.
He put us all on gigantic, white sheets with a grid; our names along the side, the coursework across the top. The entire compendium of work to be completed to finish 4th grade was on the sheets. Those who needed his help could get it, those who did not were left alone during that time. He'd answer questions on anything at any time. His time was ours.
He tended to us as a teacher and as a mentor as well. His well-known Friday night hot dog and burger fests with his wife, were not to be missed. Segregating the boy's night from the girl's night, he was able to spend better time with each group in a non-teacher setting.
I finished math and science around December.
He bought me my first chemistry set, and gave me swabs to scrub salamander's backs to peer under a microscope. I took the chemistry set and started seeing what I could put into it and what reactions happened. Little did I know I was learning acid-base, redox, and precipitate reactions.
The salamander scales got put into petri dishes and looked at under the 'scope. Then he encouraged my parents to buy me my own microscope and slide set. My parents, with his advice, went further and bought me additional blank slides, books on how to use it, and stains.
He told my parents, I was not a bad child but bored and too smart to sit still. He told the future teachers to keep me engaged in more depth and tried to help me through my 5th and 6th grade years so that this child, me, would never again have to feel the loneliness and isolation of being ostracized not only by my teachers, but by my peers.
In a way, he probably saved my life. Unfortunately, his own was not so well.
Thirty four years passed.
The last week of my first semester at school was a doozy. For reasons I cannot and will not disclose here, it was akin to being kicked in the gut. People I thought I could trust, people whom I thought were looking out for me and helping me, were undermining my every move.
For the past three weeks, I've wondered what in the heck am I thinking. Do I have it in me?!
Last night, that same teacher through one of his children, answered my question.
Of course, I do. I did not start this to quit, I did not study like mad last semester for nothing. I can't quit, I can't give up.
He never did, and neither shall I.
Thirty-five years ago, I was staring at a lonely life of a student who's desk was not allowed in the classroom. Each day I'd come to school as a 1st through 3rd grader to find my desk in the hallway. The teachers were often cruel, and mean spoken. They told my parents often how horrible I was as a child, that I was problematic, inattentive, outspoken, could not sit still, and therefore, not allowed in the classroom setting except for movies, nap time, and phy-ed.
If I asked a question, I was ignored. If I needed help, I was told to figure it out.
My 3rd grade teacher who hated me, made me lead character, the donkey, in a play. While the play was being put on the entire elementary school jeered at me. I could hear the names most often associated with donkey being called out. The teacher did nothing but sit there.
That changed when I started 4th grade.
That teacher had a gift. He had the gift of caring about his students, wanting to help them, and my desk,
was in the classroom.
He put us all on gigantic, white sheets with a grid; our names along the side, the coursework across the top. The entire compendium of work to be completed to finish 4th grade was on the sheets. Those who needed his help could get it, those who did not were left alone during that time. He'd answer questions on anything at any time. His time was ours.
He tended to us as a teacher and as a mentor as well. His well-known Friday night hot dog and burger fests with his wife, were not to be missed. Segregating the boy's night from the girl's night, he was able to spend better time with each group in a non-teacher setting.
I finished math and science around December.
He bought me my first chemistry set, and gave me swabs to scrub salamander's backs to peer under a microscope. I took the chemistry set and started seeing what I could put into it and what reactions happened. Little did I know I was learning acid-base, redox, and precipitate reactions.
The salamander scales got put into petri dishes and looked at under the 'scope. Then he encouraged my parents to buy me my own microscope and slide set. My parents, with his advice, went further and bought me additional blank slides, books on how to use it, and stains.
He told my parents, I was not a bad child but bored and too smart to sit still. He told the future teachers to keep me engaged in more depth and tried to help me through my 5th and 6th grade years so that this child, me, would never again have to feel the loneliness and isolation of being ostracized not only by my teachers, but by my peers.
In a way, he probably saved my life. Unfortunately, his own was not so well.
Thirty four years passed.
The last week of my first semester at school was a doozy. For reasons I cannot and will not disclose here, it was akin to being kicked in the gut. People I thought I could trust, people whom I thought were looking out for me and helping me, were undermining my every move.
For the past three weeks, I've wondered what in the heck am I thinking. Do I have it in me?!
Last night, that same teacher through one of his children, answered my question.
Of course, I do. I did not start this to quit, I did not study like mad last semester for nothing. I can't quit, I can't give up.
He never did, and neither shall I.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Fork In The Road
Every decision, every twist, every turn in a decision always contains forks, prompts, considerations, and alternatives. Mine are facing me straight in the face.
I want to poke it back!
The first semester of my trip back to school was interesting on many accounts. I've never studied so much in my life to be so incredibly disappointed in my performance. There were times other students would ask me how to do problem sets, or how to get through a lab, and I would be able to easily help them.
Teaching assistants would often tell me they were thankful that I was around to help ease their stress when they were either overwhelmed with the amount of students requiring help (right before exams) or nervous about presenting in front of large classrooms.
Those are areas I will cherish from my first semester back.
During the week after finals I visited a med school and talked with the director of admissions. Interesting to note how my cancer path may have been slightly tweaked.
Before I can move down that decision path, I must first choose whether or not and how, to proceed. There is no doubt I want to be a doc. There is no doubt I would be an excellent physician (at least in my mind!).
In the back of my mind there is a teeny little voice asking, "What say you?" related to continuing the path.
I want to poke it back!
The first semester of my trip back to school was interesting on many accounts. I've never studied so much in my life to be so incredibly disappointed in my performance. There were times other students would ask me how to do problem sets, or how to get through a lab, and I would be able to easily help them.
Teaching assistants would often tell me they were thankful that I was around to help ease their stress when they were either overwhelmed with the amount of students requiring help (right before exams) or nervous about presenting in front of large classrooms.
Those are areas I will cherish from my first semester back.
During the week after finals I visited a med school and talked with the director of admissions. Interesting to note how my cancer path may have been slightly tweaked.
Before I can move down that decision path, I must first choose whether or not and how, to proceed. There is no doubt I want to be a doc. There is no doubt I would be an excellent physician (at least in my mind!).
In the back of my mind there is a teeny little voice asking, "What say you?" related to continuing the path.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Monday, May 4, 2009
1st Final In 23 Years
Looming on my horizon is the first final I will have taken in 23 years. The flight or fight mechanism all prey animals are born with seems to lurk heavily at times underneath my own epithelial tissue.
And yet, I know the material fairly well. It's not like 23 years ago when I heard the word final coupled with "tomorrow morning" that fear struck and I wondered not only what material but worse, which class! Strike that, 23 years ago I was probably not worried about the final in the morning correlation at all. Which is why I'm galloping down this path now.
Interesting note how maturity connects in people's brains at different times and for different reasons.
My hope is this time, the "need" to succeed and the "need" to do whatever it takes to get to medical school have an intersecting point in 12 days. Then I can relax for four weeks, read something "fun" (Exam Krackers, I suppose), and start all over again.
Still loving the path and cannot fathom doing anything else but helping patients.
And yet, I know the material fairly well. It's not like 23 years ago when I heard the word final coupled with "tomorrow morning" that fear struck and I wondered not only what material but worse, which class! Strike that, 23 years ago I was probably not worried about the final in the morning correlation at all. Which is why I'm galloping down this path now.
Interesting note how maturity connects in people's brains at different times and for different reasons.
My hope is this time, the "need" to succeed and the "need" to do whatever it takes to get to medical school have an intersecting point in 12 days. Then I can relax for four weeks, read something "fun" (Exam Krackers, I suppose), and start all over again.
Still loving the path and cannot fathom doing anything else but helping patients.
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