C, B, C, A, D, B, he quickly filled in on the bubble sheet. He sighed, and watched his college aspirations fly away as the proctor took the SAT booklet from him. His parents were going to kill him if he had to go to community college, they had
(more) such lofty ambition for their only son. But the scores came back, and he did incredibly well, and got a scholarship to college. A lesson learned, he resolved to never make this mistake again.
D, E, A, A, B, C, D, E, he clicked on the computer screen, finishing the MCAT before time ran out. Sweat beaded on his brow like little bats hanging on a cliff's edge. The dream of medical school swirled down the drain, and panic rose inside him. A trip to the bar let him forget about it, and a month later, he did ok. He was accepted to medical school, and his parents were elated.
A, B, A, C, he punched in, just in the nick of time. Boards were hard, but he'd just barely finished them. He chastised himself, "you didn't learn this last time? That you actually have to prepare?" But the scores came back surprisingly well, and he was accepted to a prestigious surgery residency.
Blood sprayed from a nicked artery he hadn't noticed. The vitals monitor beeped uncontrollably as heart rate and blood pressure dropped. The nurse was throwing clamps and bandages at him, but it was to no effect as he stood there, frozen, vision tunneled in to the geyser of blood.
The attending pushed his way in, still tugging on the gown, and looked at the mess. "Fantastic," the attending muttered, "how did you manage to nick the femoral?"
"Not my best guess," he replied.(less)
