A Difficult Time
My Journey in Medicine	by Jerry Sobieraj, MD © 2001
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Chapter 2: "Doc"

Somewhere between the eighth and ninth grades I transitioned from wanting to be a dentist to a doctor. Of course, there was no clear, rational basis for this decision. Why I was ever interested in dentistry was also unclear to me. I had no role models, nor any particular interest in teeth (I didn't even like brushing my teeth, and hadn't even heard of flossing at that time). However, at the time I was drawn to a Reader's Digest series "I am Joe's….(body part)". As a 12 year old, I found this fascinating. I would excitedly wait for my next issue of Reader's Digest to arrive, so I could read the next installment of "Joe's body".

My interest in Medicine continued into high school despite my grades not being particularly good. It never seemed very important to me that they be good, but of course, I had no way of knowing if grades truly were important. I went to a high school where only 10% of the graduates went on to college, many attending a community college. Thus, striving for good grades didn't seem to be particularly valuable. Despite my average grades through the first part of my junior year in high school, my friends and family weren't deterred from calling me "Doc". At some level, they felt that I would ultimately succeed in this endeavor (my parents seemed to have more doubts about my success than others I knew). Finally, halfway through my junior year, my relationship with Matt, a friend who was an intellectual equal, and who was also interested in Medicine (largely because his Dad was the only doctor in town), sparked a new interest in academics. As my math teacher recalled at our Senior Awards Dinner, I got "turned on" (which of course, had many meanings in those days). My math turn on occurred when we studied trigonometry in the eleventh grade. Trigonometry proved sufficiently difficult to make it unintelligible to people who worked hard, but didn't have great analytical skills. I was finally at an advantage. I had excellent analytical skills and the ability to understand abstract information and concepts. Yet still, I was lacking in any kind of study habits. If I couldn't finish my homework before class was over, and stick it in my school book, it usually didn't get done.

That wasn't totally true my senior year, when I took Advance Placement English. Being a slow reader, I was forced to read at home so I could talk intelligently about the literature in class. When I had taken my SATs, I was quite deficient in language skills (480) but above average in math (720). Overall, this was more than enough to get into the University of Michigan (UM), the only college to which I applied. It was ironic that despite the limitations of my public high school and my poor SAT score in language skills, I was able to place out of not only first year calculus, but also freshman English.

My first glimpse of applying for medical school came when I filled out my application for UM. I noticed that they had a program called Inteflex. This was a combined undergraduate/medical school program that had a student on the hospital wards in 4 years (instead of the more typical six or more years). Of course, I had no idea that I really needed to have been on the ball in high school to get into such a program, but at the time, it was easy enough to check off the box. UM decided I didn't quite cut it for the Inteflex program, but they did offer me a place in LS&A (the college of Literature, Science and Arts).

I found my entrance into college quite liberating. I was finally in an environment where brains and thought were valued (as opposed to hair style and music preference). In addition, there was such a wide range of topics to pursue. I delved into the usual pre-medical studies, but also started taking classes outside of science, such as philosophy and German.

My science training in high school was rather limited, so being able to take a slew of science courses was quite exciting. I was especially looking forward to biochemistry. In fact, the dreaded organic chemistry turned out to be a breeze. Just as in trigonometry in high school, it was one of those topics that required abstract thinking skills. I never got a 100% on an organic test, but because they graded to the mean, I was able to get an "A+". In fact, the only "B" I got in a college science class was a "B+" in my freshman chemistry lab.

My failure to get an "A" in chemistry lab was an insightful experience. I was becoming familiar with the scientific concept that we should faithfully and honestly record the experimental data we generated. Unfortunately, the calorimeter experiment we performed required us to use rather limited materials: a Styrofoam® cup filled with water which was covered with tin foil and had a thermometer in the center. Our task was to measure the heat capacity of water (this result was well known to us as 1 calorie per cubic centimeter). The calorimeter I made was so inaccurate that I completely failed the experiment. The numbers I generated were in marked conflict to the known heat capacity of water, and thus, I had built a defective calorimeter. My faulty data became the entire focus of the experiment. The fact that I understood the concept of heat capacity and the conceptual aspects of its measurement were irrelevant to the teaching assistant. I could have easily fudged the data, knowing the desired result before the experiment even began. Yet, my faithful recording of the experimental data became my downfall. So much for rewarding honesty!

The "B+" wasn't a major blow, however. I had enough "A"s to end up with a 3.8 grade point average, substantially better than my 3.1 grade point average from high school. Some of my friends in college also called me "Doc", as they heard my high school friends use the term when they visited. Again, I wasn't particularly worried about getting into medical (med) school. I had read the college bulletin on the first day of school, and knew exactly what courses to take (i.e. requirements for admission to med school). I lined up my letters of recommendation as I went along, and gained some hospital experience via my uncle's connections at a Detroit area hospital. I thought I was rounding out my experiences as expected, only to find out I really didn't have a clue.

Just as with college, the only med school I wanted to go to was UM's. Why ever leave Ann Arbor if you didn't have to, I thought? I applied for their early decision program, which required me to apply to only a single med school. In turn I would be notified by September 1st if I was accepted or not. Figuring my acceptance was perfunctory, I entered the early decision process. My confidence about getting into UM faded the morning I met a hard nosed physician during my first interview.

I had set up my med school interview for 8am on a Friday. That summer I was working at Hydramatic, a large General Motors factory in neighboring Ypsilanti, Michigan. I worked midnights, so generally I would get home around 7am. That fateful Friday after I returned from work, I showered, ate a big breakfast, and laid out my suit before lying on the couch for a little pre-interview rest. I awoke staring at the large clock in front of me. It was 8am, the time my interview down the street was supposed to begin. Since I had to get a move on, I threw on my clothes, and headed to the nearby med school. It was raining, but I made it in the door with umbrella in hand at 8:15 am. Just as I walked to the desk to sign in, a physician came out and said, "I guess this Sobieraj (mispronounced, of course) guy isn't coming".

I assured him that indeed I had come, and apologized for my tardiness. At that point I found out that Medicine was potentially stuffier than I could ever have imagined. He asked me if I knew what an HMO was. Though this question is easily answered today, it was not so easy in August of 1979. He told me it was the future of Medicine (he was unfortunately correct on that point). He proceeded to ask me about my interest in culture. For example, had I ever been to the Detroit Institute of Arts? I assured him I hadn't. He told me that I was much too science oriented, and should have broadened my background.

I left there with the writing on the wall that I would be leaving Ann Arbor by the fall of 1980. It finally became clear to me why pre-meds (students trying to get into medical school) I knew when I first arrived at UM spent so much time taking introductory psychology courses. They wanted to be (appear) well-rounded. People from backgrounds which taught them how to play the med school entry game had a path clearly outlined for them. They knew which classes and activities gave "the look" on their applications. All I ever did was study what interested and excited me.

I realized that people from working class backgrounds, without a prior link to Medicine, had a real struggle against such narrow minded physician interviewers. Why didn't it matter that I had been to Tiger Stadium or the Olympia a million times (where the Detroit Tigers and Red Wings played, respectively)? I could have given him detailed stories about events there. Why didn't he ask me how it was working in auto factories in the summer so I could pay for my schooling? I could have told him about the putrid air I had to breathe everyday and how I had come to realize why so many people smoked in that environment. None of that seemed to matter.

Fortunately, my interview at Wayne State University in Detroit went substantially better. The interviewer did comment on my poor writing skills; evidently not much improved since my SAT days. However, despite this deficiency, they let me in. I was finally able to begin MY medical career.

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