To paraphrase the famous expression "You don't know what you got, until it's gone" more appropriately for this post - "You don't know what you'll have until it's yours".
While I was still in the premed camp, I used to dream about the time these life-changing words would be addressed to me - "Congratulations, you have been selected..." and dreading yet another "Dear candidate, despite your excellent dossier, you were not selected..." (I have received more than a couple of those). For years, I used to speak in the conditional "If I become I doctor...". It sort of became a reflex, a second nature of mine. And during those years I thought of the moment of getting my acceptance as a sharp 90 degree turn you sometimes encounter on the country side or Canadian urban centres. When you see it ahead, you have to slow down and make sure you stay in your lane. In the same way I thought I would change my life trajectory when the new and better stretch of my life appeared in front of me. Many exciting events in mind were tied to Being Accepted. "I will do this... I will try that...". But all ended with "if only I was accepted" - although I was never superstitious, the grandeur of the subject made me almost religious when discussing it. Which, by the way, shows just how feeble the whole thing was. As the list of things to do or to try grew, so did the weight and the importance of the aftermath. It became harder and harder for me to bear the possibility of rejection, with so much value attached to this one event, not even entirely under my control. Also, as I put on hold many if not all of the things I really wanted to do, I became less and less happy. But I did not notice this, I was too preoccupied with my thoughts.
This was then.