MS1 at University of California, San Francisco School of Medicine

Ayush Kumar

4 Gap Years

Low-Stat Applicant

Interested in Mentorship & Teaching

TL;DR

I was motivated to pursue medicine from a very young age due to formative experiences.
I failed spectacularly during my undergraduate career and was encouraged to pursue other options and subsequently took 4 gap years before matriculation to medical school.
I carry a perpetual chip on my shoulder. My failures have not defined me, but have shaped my desire to pursue excellence.
I am process-oriented. I don’t care much for the goals anymore, but rather the steps that I take to get there. With this mindset, I focus on personal growth and self-reflection as opposed to blindly bulling my way forward.
I am driven to achieve social justice and equity for all, particularly people suffering from disabilities and BIPOC.

Update: FEB 2021

I’m staring at the timer, seconds ticking away as I try to make sense of the question in front of me. I’m tired, my back hurts, and I have that characteristic dull headache that crops up when I’ve spent all the effort my mind, body, and soul are capable of.10 minutes left, but I don’t have it in me. I can hear the jiggling of the door handle, an indicator that my dog is tired of being cooped up in the room with me. One deep breath. One last effort.

5 minutes later, I’m hitting submit on my first block exam in medical school. But what follows isn’t relief or pride. Instead, it’s a familiar sensation of anxiety. The kind that feels like chest compressions; relief one second followed by a pressure that makes it feel like you can’t breathe. Neither the sound of low-fi beats, nor the final episode of Michael Jordan’s “The Last Dance” can bring me back down to Earth. I settle in for an emotionally taxing 2 weeks of analysis paralysis.

Surprisingly, I passed. 100 on the Anatomy practical and “Meets Expectations” on 15 out of the 16 questions on your block exam (of course the last question was the one I was Borderline on, but let’s not talk about it). But relief from doing well on the exams isn’t enough to quell the emotional rollercoaster that medical school has been so far. I am familiar with only 4 of my 150+ classmates, I haven’t been able to shadow much at all, and I’m on my computer for 8+ hours a day.

But the most overwhelming thing about medical school is the opportunities. The sheer amount of which makes you question constantly whether enough is actually enough. The sheer amount of which makes time seem to pass by at a breathless pace. The sheer amount of which makes you question whether your time is actually better spent studying or pursuing skills, research, and advocacy that will provide real benefit for real people sooner rather than later. Every day seems to be a soft reset, when I wake up before the sun is out fully to begin, again, the cycle of studying the day’s content while simultaneously making concessions about what I can feasibly accomplish outside of the expected classwork.

Don’t get me wrong. The Sisyphean nature that I’ve described of every pre-clinical day in medical school might force one to conclude that I’m unhappy. But according to French philosopher Albert Camus’s “The Myth of Sisyphus”, one must conclude that Sisyphus was happy, because only in enjoying his situation could he be openly defiant and find meaning in the monotony. Despite the fact that I’ve had to settle into a schedule that repeats itself, I’m excited to be learning things that are of interest to me. Paradoxically, I gain an even greater appreciation for the opportunities that I pursue outside the classroom.

I’m excited to become a physician who is not only scientifically competent, but also one whose obligations and passions reach beyond the biomedical scope. One who believes sharp debate, tough questions, and a deep respect for the underrepresented and underserved communities of color are essential to the education and work we are choosing to pursue.

So I take a moment, breathe, and count my blessings. I promise myself that no matter what, I’ll keep striving to grow and make the most of the opportunities presented to me.

Hi there! My name is Ayush Kumar, I am 26 years old, and I am officially an MS1 at UCSF School of Medicine!

Background

I grew up in Elk Grove, California which at the time was a small town just south of Sacramento (we just got our own Costco, so we’re making big moves). My parents are Indian immigrants, having moved here just before I was born.

I don’t have many memories of my family from the earlier portions of my life. My dad was strong but gentle, kind but firm, stoic but loving, and proud but hungry – a perfect product, I imagine, of the Indian culture that permeated his early life. My mom was loving, generous, and vibrant. In abandoning their lives in India, they came seeking the same that which is sought by all: the equality of opportunity. After more than 10 years in this country, my dad decided to bring his own mother and father, my dada and dadi, and impress upon them the validation of his risks in upending his prior life. That summer of 2002, we all piled into a minivan and took a road trip to Yellowstone National Park. On the way home, we were involved in a motor vehicle accident.

During the crash, my dad suffered a cervical spinal cord injury. Unable, or perhaps unwilling, to accept that he would never walk again, my dad became fixated on an impossible functional recovery. One month and two hospital transfers later, his spirit shattered. My dad, a stoic man, began screaming that he did not want to live like this anymore. Standing helplessly in his hospital room, I instinctively squeezed my mom’s hand and took a step forward, desperate to reach out. But it was the physician who took his hand in hers and put her other hand on his shoulder. She made no promises for a cure, but she began to build this idea of hope rooted in reality, cultivated by knowledge and empathy. As my dad calmed, my eyes widened as I realized that standing before me was a person with the strength to lift the strongest man I knew and mend his broken spirit. She reignited my dad’s spark for life and ignited one in me too – to heal and nurture the way only a physician could.

To my surprise, I later discovered that my passion and commitment remained in the Valley and I became determined to utilize my education to return to my community to make a sustainable difference for the underserved.

Inspired to pursue medicine from an early age, I was driven to pursue academic excellence. My early academic success was met by the kudos of my friends, teachers, and family friends who all knew the nature of my unique situation. While this was nice in the moment, I have come to realize the unintentional toxicity of the praise that was being reigned down on me. I had compartmentalized the accident, refusing to come to terms with the long-term implications of my dad’s niche disability and throwing myself instead into my academics. The acclaim I received served as positive feedback, encouraging me to continue ignoring the long-term implications of my dad’s disability for my family and instead focusing on less meaningful things. My identity came to be defined by my skills in the classroom. I started my undergraduate career at UC Berkeley in 2012, supremely confident in my skills and determined to succeed.

“You should seek a different career path.”

Sitting in my advisor’s office in Berkeley, those words nearly broke me. There was no examining the calculus of my behavior. No gentle yet probing conversation in an earnest attempt to understand my academic struggles. In under one minute, judgement was delivered, swift and cruel, with no regard for the story behind the electronic academic profile of the student who sat before him. The bleak outlook presented to me combined with authority I had given the advisor over me almost put an end to my journey of pursuing medicine.

My time at Berkeley had been the most jarring whiplash I had experienced since the car crash all those years ago. I was no longer a big fish in a small pond. For the first time in my life, I was beginning to understand academic struggle, and I did not react well. As my grades started slipping, so too did my confidence. My identity was crumbling. I didn’t know who I was outside the classroom.

In the face of negativity, I was reminded by countless sources that one is not defined by one’s failures, but by what one does after they fail. Adapting a mindset centered on growth, I embraced hard work, resilience, and personal accountability as the keys to unlocking my potential. My desire to prove to myself, as well as my friends and family, that I was a capable and intelligent student culminated in an upward trend in my grades. The more I focused on my personal development, the more I found myself becoming process-oriented. I started to enjoy the journey itself; making sure to learn from my mistakes and failures, and building on the successes along the way.

By focusing on my path to becoming a physician, rather than the goal of becoming one, I paid special attention to self-betterment and reflection so that I was more prepared to be the physician my future patients would require of me.

Rediscovery

My last semester at UC Berkeley, I managed to earn a 4.0. I like to joke and say I went 1-7 against Berkeley and managed to not get swept (UC Berkeley is on the semester system, and I spent 8 semesters there). I had been told by my advisor that I would never make it to medical school at the end of my sophomore year, and it had taken me 2 years to get to this point. 2 years of open and honest discourse with my family and myself. 2 years to come to terms with my failures. 2 years to finally come to terms with my past and my future. And 2 years to let my experiences shape me but not define me.

While I felt as though I had grown heavily over the course of my time at Berkeley, I had matured enough to know that I was not ready to pursue medicine. Perhaps part of it was my advisor’s words still ringing in my ears. Maybe I was worried that my quantitative statistics of my application were going to hold me back. Certainly, I didn’t feel like I could shoulder the responsibility and care for another person when I had just learned how to care for myself.

So after graduating, I took a job as a Drug Safety Coordinator to earn enough to support both myself and parents. Every day on the way to work, I would pass by a clinic and glance at the patients participating in their physical therapy. Every day, I felt the pull towards healthcare tug on me more and more until, one day, I quit my job and became an in-home rehab specialist at that very clinic. Every day working with patients recovering from traumatic brain injuries and observing their resilience reminded me of my own family’s struggles and how much I wanted to unshackle them from the biological and social burdens of illness. These feelings were amplified as I began volunteering at various hospitals, abroad, and even a local dog shelter. I was showered with positivity from the physicians who graciously allowed me to shadow them. I took an internship with the Stanford Medicine Abilities Coalition so I could learn to be a better advocate for the disabled.

In the late Spring of 2018, on the cusp of applying to medical school, I hesitated. The past 2 years out of school, and indeed the last two years of undergraduate, I knew I had made immense strides. I had grown more than I could have thought possible. But there was one thing holding me back. My academics. My last step was to prove to myself, NOT to an admissions committee, that I was academically capable. So I left my job, and instead of applying to medical school, I applied to a post-baccalaureate program.

Though years removed, my prior academic struggles weighed heavily on me. Could I navigate the pace and tenor of a full-time pure upper division science course load, while encouraging passion for the material along with success? Nevertheless, if I was going to succeed, I needed to be confident and self-assured. In that year I spent at my post-bacc program, I worked harder than most may have believed was needed. But my hard work paid off with a 4.0 and a great MCAT score.

After finishing my post-baccalaureate program over the summer with a perfect 4.0, I was hired as a medical assistant at a spine and sports medicine clinic. Through the work that I performed and the patients I saw on a daily basis, I was exposed to several various types of spine and sports injuries, such as extruded discs and spinal stenosis. I observed as MRIs of the spine revealed unexpected findings such as adenopathies, meningiomas and renal cell carcinomas, and stood by the physician as he broke this news to the patients. I held a patient’s hand and guided them through breathing as they suffered from a panic attack after being told their diagnosis. I shook hands with a patient who thanked me for explaining the benefits of an updated lumbar spine MRI that, when performed, turned out to show a pathological extraspinal finding. Every day I gained a little more insight into what it means to become a physician who not only has the knowledge to deliver care, but the tact and empathy to deliver it effectively.

As a nontraditional applicant, I was fortunate enough to have been through a number of eye-opening experiences that made it clear that I was meant to be a physician. I also had the chance to fully explore what being a physician means to me. Growing up with a dad who suffers from a physical disability strongly informed my views on justice and equity for all. In addition, having amazing mentors and teachers, and being given the opportunity to teach and tutor in almost every position that I held informed my decision to not only become a physician, but to be a clinician educator and a contributing member in changing the medical school education system to be more equitable and accessible to underrepresented students. In this way, I hope to help in increasing representation amongst our physician workforce so as to aid in eliminating healthcare disparities.

Advice

A degree in medicine comes with so many opportunities. I’m of the firm belief that in this day and age, we are under an obligation to use the opportunities afforded to us to not just treat our patients but to heal the system so as to achieve better health for all. For that reason, my biggest piece of advice is to approach the pre-medical process with a thirst to absorb as much as you can. Erase the idea of the pre-medical student checklist. Don’t go through the motions. This means that you should be attempting to learn as much as you can about what it means to be a physician, but also a zeal to discover the gaps in the current landscape of healthcare and where you hope to make an impact. Use your time to explore what your passion is within medicine (I’m not talking about specialty) and let that inform your ambitions as a physician leader. I encourage you to look at all aspects of life and find medicine where there has traditionally been no medicine. For example: Education, government, food security, or immigration. Finally, take time to grow as a person. Reflect and discover what your ambitions and motivations are. The more you learn about yourself, the more confident and capable of a physician you’ll make. You can’t understand and care for others if you can’t do that for yourself.

Application

These are the exact statistics and hours I applied with, although they do not reflect my summer courses I took while applying concurrently, or the jobs I held during the application cycle.

Primary Application: 40, verified July 11th, 2019
Secondary Application: 40, average completion date late August/early September

Cumulative GPA: 3.38
Science GPA: 3.21
MCAT: 516 (129/130/130/127)

Teaching/Tutoring/Teaching Assistant: 1 entry (16 hours)
Physician Shadowing/Clinical Observation: 1 entry, 2 instances (100 hours)
Research/Lab: 1 entry (500 hours)
Extracurricular Activities: 1 entry (1000 hours)
Honors/Awards/Recognitions: 1 entry, 2 extra instances (1 hour)
Community Service/Volunteer – Medical/Clinical: 2 entries (290 hours total)
Community Service/Volunteer – Not Medical/Clinical: 2 entries (350 hours total)
Paid Employment – Not Medical/Clinical: 2 entries (2720 hours total)
Paid Employment – Medical/Clinical: 2 entries (2080 hours total)