Struggling to decide if I can go to team trials. The plane ticket is expensive, I have an exam on the Monday following weekend, and I don't have nandu. If I can manage to get front jump kick aerial by the the registration deadline? I don't know.

It's May 4th, 2015. I put my phone on silent mode for my morning classes and for unknown reasons, whether or not it will vibrate for a call (as it is supposed to do) is rather unpredictable. That day, my phone didn't move a single inch as I studied at my desk. At around 7 pm, I start to get ready for practice and once I'm done dressing, I look at my phone to see one voice mail. My heart jumps at the unknown number and DC area code but I immediately squash the hope--I had been falsely hopeful at unfamiliar area codes too many times already. But then I listen to the voicemail: 

"Tina, this is Dr. Ray Mitchell." 

My first thought was that I don't have a physician by that name, and so I began to believe that it might be an acceptance call. 

"Um, I hope this is a happy message for you but..." 

This "but" was perhaps one of the most nerve-wracking ones I've ever heard. I started to think that maybe this was some weird, bittersweet call about being moved to a high priority wait-list instead.

"I'm just--I get the pleasure as the dean to call and congratulate you that you will be getting the official email acceptance to the school of medicine."

At this point, my mind is racing and my hands are trembling uncontrollably. I was accepted somewhere and about to explode in utter joy, but I am now wholly preoccupied by one question, "WHICH SCHOOL OF MEDICINE?!"

"Congratulations, we want to see you here as a double Hoya in August. Call your folks."

I'm going to be a double Hoya. I'll always be a Terp at heart but I have no problems with adding blue and gray to my wardrobe. 

Epilogue: 

Of course, I then immediately run to Henry in the closet and replay the voice mail on speaker. I jump on him immediately in celebration and re-injure his back right before practice, doing some major damage--whoops. Searching "Ray Mitchell" on Google to confirm his position as dean is my next action because part of me can hardly believe it and suspects this could be some sort of elaborate, perverse hoax but the search confirms it. On the drive to practice, I call my mom who screams her congratulations through the phone and on an impulse, offers me the new car she just bought (I decline because I'm fairly sure she offered without thinking). At practice, I take the good news and ensuing confidence to attempt jump kicks for the first time in almost two years--I manage to do three thus, add to an amazing day. Afterwards, I listen to the voice mail maybe ten more times that night and manage to catch only four hours of sleep because I am too excited and hope the day never ends. 

I'm beginning to seriously doubt my ability to socialize with people uninvolved with wushu lol.

Sometimes it's hard to feel like I've accomplished anything important. Mainly, I struggle to feel good about where I am in regards to getting into med school and also about my progress in wushu. Usually when I falter in one, I turn to the other for a sense of accomplishment. But both goals seem so far away at the moment.

The frustration of medical school application is extremely consuming, and it is very difficult to keep optimistic. The possibility of going through another cycle and re-taking the MCAT is something I have a hard time coping with so I try to convince myself that the chance of it is very low. While getting six interviews helped my ego a little bit, being placed on five wait-lists is rather demoralizing. I rationalize that it is better than getting a post-interview rejection, but it still isn't an acceptance. Now, I'm pinning all my hopes on the last school but I imagine that the potential disappointment would be crushing.

Wushu has also been a fairly bittersweet experience. It's very hard to keep myself from wondering what would have happened if only I had avoided tearing my ACL again, which isn't exactly a healthy mental exercise. I hate that I had been making so much progress and then screwed it up only a few days before competition. When I cried after it happened, it was out of sheer disappointment rather than any physical pain. And at this point in time, I just feel so incredibly impatient. I know that my knee isn't ready for jumps, but it frustrates me because I feel so close to that tipping point. Something inside me feels like it's going to explode if I can't go all out in training soon. I'm also struggling to decide whether or not I want to go to team trials despite all of this. Do I go just for the sake of participating? But would I be able to feel good about my performance even though I can't put 100% into my training?