Thread by @gradydoctor

1/
I had imagined what this day would be like. Played it out in my head and saw various iterations of me exploding in celebration.

In some versions, I was doing the running man or, quite literally, running in triumphant circles, #MatchDay envelope in hand.

"Wooo hooo!"

2/
I also saw these visions of me quietly weeping, one hand extended to the heavens in gratitude. My lips quietly murmuring prayers of thanksgiving.

See, I was my ancestors' wildest dreams. And not even just my enslaved ancestors but the Jim Crow survivors who raised me, too.

3/
So, yeah. This was about to be big.

I was even on the #MatchDay party committee. And since we were broke, that meant soliciting donations from faculty & parents & anybody who felt proud enough of us to shell out a few coins.

Which, fortunately for us, was a lot of folks.

4/
So as that day approached, the excitement was palpable. I remembered being an M1 voyeur watching those M4s on #MatchDay. My pulse quickened as I watched their roller coaster of complex emotions along with my classmates.

You: *whisper* "That's gonna be us."
Me: *nod*

5/
That's gonna be us.

We're gonna fold into each other like origami, crying and cheering. Promising to always-always-always stay connected even though we would be in different states. And then calling our parents and hearing them say things like, "Hallelujah you got a job!"

6/
To which we would say, "Yes. As a whole entire doctor no less."

Or, at least, a resident one.

Yeah.

That's gonna be us. On #MatchDay, us. And we will be the M4s that look over to those nervous M1s and pull them into the celebration saying things like, "Y'all got next."

7/
And they would walk away with arms linked together saying what we said:

"That's gonna be us."

And, honestly, all we knew about was that Friday. The big sign with CONGRATULATIONS on it and the balloons. And the bouquets of flowers and bottles of champagne.

Or apple cider.

8/
What we didn't know about, though, was the Monday. That other day that no one talked about. At least, not to us M1s or M2s. Or even M3s.

Nope.

That #Unmatched day where some get an email saying, "Hey, you didn't #Match."

Or, rather, a phonecall since we had no email then.

9/
But I would learn. When that Monday came and you got that notification that disrupted all of our plans of that being us.

You: "I didn't match."
Me: "No, it's on Friday."
You: "No, I mean. . ."

Then you started crying. Hard. Like hard-hard. But I still was confused.

10/
But you un-confused me.

You: "Nobody on my rank list picked me back. Or maybe they did but the other people they picked first got in first."
Me: "So wait. What? What does that even mean?"

But the answer was just more disappointed tears. Which I joined in on.

11/
We were on the phone.

Me: "I'm at school. But I can come to you."
You: "I'm already in the dean's office."

And I didn't even wait for you to say it was okay. I just went there. To find you. Because this wasn't just about you. This was about us.

Us.

12/
You saw me approaching and came out. The hallway was mercifully barren and we clung to each other. No words. Just weeping.

You: "This wasn't how it was supposed to be."
Me: *nodding*

I froze. Since this was before cell phones, maybe they'd been trying to reach me, too.

13/
You knew me well enough to know my thoughts.

You: "If you hadn't matched, they would've found you."
Me: *eyes widening*
You: "Yeah. They tracked me down."

*silence*

Me: "So now what do we do?"
You: "We start finding who needs an extra intern."

Which is what we did.

14/
And as it turned out, there were some really good programs who were looking for their missing piece just like we were. And shout out to best friends hoarding fax machines, by the end of that day, you'd secured not only a good program but a great one.

Which was really good.

15/
And you would go on and get your training and love that program. You would become board certified and ultimate so good at what you do that you couldn't even take new patients.

Like, that good.

And just as promised, we always-always-always stayed connected. We did.

16/
We danced at each others' weddings and cried at loved ones' funerals and stumbled through parenthood and doctorhood together. Even after all those years.

But we never forgot the sucker punch of that Monday. Hard and to the jaw. Which, yes, hit you hardest.

But still.

17/
Because I love you, it hit me, too.

And because you love me, on that Friday we still folded into each other like origami. And did the running man.

Together.

And what's funny is that our parents still said the same thing:

"Hallelujah. You got a job!"

18/
To which we replied:

"Yes. As a whole entire doctor no less."

Then we went to that #MatchDay party and celebrated being our ancestors' wildest dreams. Yeah.

And the truth is? That day was ultimately a mere blink on the radar of your life as a doctor.

But still.

19/
That was supposed to be us, man.

So. . . . if you didn't match? Or you love someone who didn't match? Know that I see you, okay? I feel you, too.

But also know that the love that gets us to this point sustains us, too. Through this week and the ones to come.

Okay?

20/
And that same love is a reason to celebrate still.

With the running man.
Or just running in circles.

You are still triumphant. Like we were.

Like we still are.
And always were.

Yeah.

#matchday #unmatched #loveisthewhat