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- Jul 29, 2007
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Twas the night before Match, when all thro' the House,
Not an M4 was stirring, not even their spouse.
Our ranks were placed in the system with care,
In hopes Lady Match would soon send us there;
The schools were prepped; cameras ready to snap;
They setup the stage and the Match Day map.
And just as I, the sub-I, trolled some SDN thread;
I fell asleep and this nightmare dance'd into my head:
I was in the call room like any other day,
Hoping no work would soon come my way;
When out on the wards there arouse such a clatter,
I ran into the hall to see what was the matter.
It was a bad move; such a terrible mistake!
An M4 should know the right way to escape;
For my attending was there, standing ready for me:
"Hey dip**** M4! Got a patient for thee."
I stuttered and stammered, didn't know what to say;
This devil would make me do work on Match Day?
And where was my resident? Not one person knew.
"What're you waiting for boy? The patient needs YOU."
So away to the wards I flew in a flash,
Knowing the task would nothing but trash.
To the bedside I huffed, my patient right there;
This little old lady with a ten-mile stare.
But she looked in no trouble, no extremis at all;
I looked at her sideways, said, "Ma'am why'd you call?"
With a wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Soon gave me to know, I had ample to dread.
"My name's Lady Match, and today is Match Day;
To deliver the letters, we must fly away."
Then my patient right then did a kind of twerk;
As her image transformed to the face of a clerk;
And the room whirled around in my head like a pool-
It changed into the stage at my own med school;
And my classmates appeared, where once was the bed;
And a pile of letters that were soon to be read.
Then one by one, they read them all out,
One after one, their Matches they'd shout;
And everyone celebrated, the room full of cheers;
There were smiling faces, and even some tears.
But as the pile dwindled, I waited my turn;
I was given nothing but guts in a churn.
When soon the cheers ended, they moved to the door;
Lady Match made an exit, her letters no more.
That's when I panicked about what I should do.
I ran into the hall, and yelled at her too:
"Lady Match, why'd you call, just to leave me like so?
I've gotten no letter - no program to go!"
With a stop in her step, did Lady Match turn;
With a scowl on her face, not an ounce of concern:
"Don't you get it you fool?" she asked with a sneer.
"This is a dream - you aren't really here.
But now that I have you, I'd like you to know;
Wherever I sent you, you're lucky to go;
Doesn't matter to where, it was on your damn list;
And in case you're too dumb to quite catch my gist-
Just think of the SOAPers and all of their trouble,
Or make your neurosis a little more subtle."
And with that one speech, my mind started to reel;
I thought of the unmatched, and how they would feel;
She did have a point, I admitted to myself-
I should be more grateful, like the Keebler Elf.
"Now you get it," she said. "I'm glad we agree."
So I smiled and nodded, said, "Yep, that's GG."
Then my anxious mind went back on the mend,
But before my slumber came to its end:
Lady Match turned from me, gave a cheery whistle,
As away she went; down the stairs in a bristle.
And I heard her exclaim, 'ere she drove out of sight-
"Happy Match Day to all, and to all a good night!"
Not an M4 was stirring, not even their spouse.
Our ranks were placed in the system with care,
In hopes Lady Match would soon send us there;
The schools were prepped; cameras ready to snap;
They setup the stage and the Match Day map.
And just as I, the sub-I, trolled some SDN thread;
I fell asleep and this nightmare dance'd into my head:
I was in the call room like any other day,
Hoping no work would soon come my way;
When out on the wards there arouse such a clatter,
I ran into the hall to see what was the matter.
It was a bad move; such a terrible mistake!
An M4 should know the right way to escape;
For my attending was there, standing ready for me:
"Hey dip**** M4! Got a patient for thee."
I stuttered and stammered, didn't know what to say;
This devil would make me do work on Match Day?
And where was my resident? Not one person knew.
"What're you waiting for boy? The patient needs YOU."
So away to the wards I flew in a flash,
Knowing the task would nothing but trash.
To the bedside I huffed, my patient right there;
This little old lady with a ten-mile stare.
But she looked in no trouble, no extremis at all;
I looked at her sideways, said, "Ma'am why'd you call?"
With a wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Soon gave me to know, I had ample to dread.
"My name's Lady Match, and today is Match Day;
To deliver the letters, we must fly away."
Then my patient right then did a kind of twerk;
As her image transformed to the face of a clerk;
And the room whirled around in my head like a pool-
It changed into the stage at my own med school;
And my classmates appeared, where once was the bed;
And a pile of letters that were soon to be read.
Then one by one, they read them all out,
One after one, their Matches they'd shout;
And everyone celebrated, the room full of cheers;
There were smiling faces, and even some tears.
But as the pile dwindled, I waited my turn;
I was given nothing but guts in a churn.
When soon the cheers ended, they moved to the door;
Lady Match made an exit, her letters no more.
That's when I panicked about what I should do.
I ran into the hall, and yelled at her too:
"Lady Match, why'd you call, just to leave me like so?
I've gotten no letter - no program to go!"
With a stop in her step, did Lady Match turn;
With a scowl on her face, not an ounce of concern:
"Don't you get it you fool?" she asked with a sneer.
"This is a dream - you aren't really here.
But now that I have you, I'd like you to know;
Wherever I sent you, you're lucky to go;
Doesn't matter to where, it was on your damn list;
And in case you're too dumb to quite catch my gist-
Just think of the SOAPers and all of their trouble,
Or make your neurosis a little more subtle."
And with that one speech, my mind started to reel;
I thought of the unmatched, and how they would feel;
She did have a point, I admitted to myself-
I should be more grateful, like the Keebler Elf.
"Now you get it," she said. "I'm glad we agree."
So I smiled and nodded, said, "Yep, that's GG."
Then my anxious mind went back on the mend,
But before my slumber came to its end:
Lady Match turned from me, gave a cheery whistle,
As away she went; down the stairs in a bristle.
And I heard her exclaim, 'ere she drove out of sight-
"Happy Match Day to all, and to all a good night!"
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