Sometimes I dreamed of becoming a professional soccer player (even though I can barely run a mile), or a makeup artist (even though I can barely put on mascara), or an astronaut (even though I get nauseous on the way up to the 35th floor of Cathy). But, the reality is that I knew that I wanted to be a doctor since I was a little girl -- since before I knew that you could be a doctor in something other than medicine.

I've had my entire life planned out since around sixth grade. I'm not exaggerating. Type A or Type A?

I played "Doctor" with my sister. I didn't perform any surgeries, but I was always cleaning up her "wounds," sometimes helping her with her "newborn baby" (okay, that's kind of weird).

In my seventh grade Computers class, we had to create a business card for one of our projects. It still sits on the bulletin board in my parents' office. What do you think it says?

Dr. Cailyn M. Hall, M.D.
Surgical Oncologist
Children's Hospital of Philadelphia

This dream, at the time, didn't seem unreasonable. I was going to attend an Ivy, and after that I was going to go to a top medical school. I think that everyone envisioned that kind of life for me. I envisioned that for myself. They knew that there would be many hardships and many more years of schooling, but if anyone could do it, it was me.

Obviously, I'm not at an Ivy, but the latter part of that statement is still true, right? Wrong.

Two semesters of college is how long it took for me to realize that medicine isn't for me. Well, I realized it sooner. But, two semesters of college is how long it took for me to make the frightening and risky change from pre-med.

I got a "C" on my first college exam, and even worse, I got a "B+" in a class for the first time ever. Foundations of Biology 1. An introductory level Biology class. How I learned how to be okay with that is a whole different story. I didn't know how I was going to make it through the next semester let alone the next three and a half years. I blamed it on my professor. I blamed it on the fact that it was a huge class. I blamed it on the fact that I was just so busy trying to adjust to college.

Or, maybe I just hated Biology. Maybe I hated Medicine.

But, I had already spent an entire semester working towards the pre-med requirements, so I couldn't stop now. I feared being behind if I decided to change my life plan. So, I registered for Bio 2, and I continued volunteering at the hospital, and I got a research position, and I started shadowing physicians.

My anxiety was at an all time high. I was drained. I was tired. I wasn't happy. I couldn't bear to think about the fact that I was going to have to do this EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. for the next 8+ years.

I never felt like this in high school. I always woke up every morning feeling refreshed and eager to get to school, usually arriving twenty minutes early (my sister hated me for that, but getting a ride with me was better than the bus). I graduated at the top of my class with a 4.0 unweighted GPA -- an A in every class I ever took. That was the Cailyn everyone knew -- dedicated, determined, and intelligent. Everyone knew I was going to do great things. I was going to become a doctor. I was going to change the world.

So, why wasn't that happening?

I guess it was after I saw the score on my Bio exam this semester that I really took a step back. Something wasn't right. What am I doing with my life? I'm going through the motions. I'm not happy. I'm not learning about what I want to learn about. I really hate school.

Chemistry. Math. The only two classes that didn't make me feel overwhelmed and incredibly bored. Why not pick a major or a career that involved only the things I love?

If I wanted things to change, I was going to have to take a risk.

And I decided...

I'm going to go do just that.

With less than a week until my scheduling date, I was stressed and under a tight timeline. I visited the help desk in the Engineering building the very next day. I approached a grumpy old man. I greeted him with a smile and a warm welcome to which he barely responded. Okay this is going to be difficult, I thought. He asked me what I needed, and I told him that I was wondering how I would go about getting in contact with someone to talk about transferring. He told me it probably wouldn't happen because 1) I haven't taken Physics here at Pitt and 2) there aren't many spots available. He proceeded to ask me for my email address and told me to check my inbox.

Wow. Okay. Helpful.

I walked outside, and I sat on the bench. The tears began to flow. The same thoughts from last night filled my head. What am I doing with my life? I'm going through the motions. I'm not happy. I'm not learning about what I want to learn about. I really hate school.

I was at the lowest of lows. Seriously.

I sat on the bench, and I thought about how hard I had worked to get here and how the type of success that I was so used to achieving wasn't continuing.

I called my mom in a panic. Through the phone, I felt my mom's strength -- the strength of an individual who came from practically nothing, put herself through college and graduate school, and got a job as a nursing professor at a four-year university. I felt her strength.

She reminded me of the grit and determination and passion that it took to get through four years of Honors and AP level classes. She reminded me that there were times that I felt the same exact way that I was feeling in this moment. She reminded me of the pride that I felt when my name was called at Senior Recognition Night and Graduation. She reminded me that those characteristics were still within me. She wanted me to find them and exhibit them as I always had in the past.

She was right. Why had those characteristics that made me me gone into hiding?

I went online, and I called practically every number listed on Pitt's Chemical Engineering website. Everyone was busy and referred me to someone else who was also busy. I sent emails to practically every email address listed on Pitt's Chemical Engineering website. Everyone was busy. No one answered.

I was at a loss, once again.

But, later that night, I glanced over at my phone, and I saw it light up. Someone had finally responded.

Just two days later, I walked into this woman's office, and I greeted her with a smile and a warm welcome, just as I had done with the grumpy old man. There was one difference: this time it was reciprocated. She took 45 minutes out her day to inform me about the program and help formulate a plan that would allow me to stay on track and graduate in four years. I was thankful for her dedication to students (those who aren't even her own), her excitement about potentially having me in the program, and her unbiased opinions. She recognized that I should be in this program -- that I deserved to be in this program. She promised that she would go to bat for me.

Truthfully, I'm not sure if this is the perfect next step, and I know for a fact that this isn't going to be an easy road. What I do know, though, is that this feels right.

I called my mom, and after telling her my decision, she told me that I sounded happier and more confident.

And, all I can think is that I should have done this a long time ago.