The Match 2026 results are out, and yes — Alhamdulillah, I matched again. That's right: this is the second time I've received the famous NRMP match email, full of excitement, emotion, and anxiety. Here's my story.

March 21, 2025: That same third Friday of March. After days of false hope from IR programs — phone calls from PDs, personalized "thank you" emails, assurances I'd been ranked highly just three days before the ROL deadline — I opened the email only to learn I hadn't matched with any of them. Instead, I was congratulated for matching into a preliminary surgery year in Brooklyn, NY.

At first, I was devastated. But day by day, I accepted the result and started planning my next move. After deep reflection and conversations with mentors and friends, I decided to go ahead with the prelim year. It would give me solid U.S. clinical experience, valuable connections, and a stronger footing for the following year's match.

Then things unraveled. A delayed Statement of Need from the Turkish Ministry of Health, followed by the U.S. Department of State's temporary hold on visa appointments starting May 18 — just one day before I received my DS-2019 form — put everything on pause. The hold was lifted on June 19, but that was one day after my prelim PD told me they could no longer wait. They kindly offered a one-year deferral, but I had already decided that I would not move to the U.S. a year later for a prelim-only position; I'd rather continue my ongoing diagnostic radiology training in Türkiye. So, I requested a waiver from the match agreement.

One day before, one day after. That was all it took to lose the position.

I was visiting my family abroad at the time — to say goodbye, since being "on paper" in the U.S. would make visits during residency difficult. That loss hurt. I had a hard time processing everything. But that's life: you give your maximum effort, and sometimes Allah has a different plan — a better one, even if we're too shortsighted to see it in the moment.

July 2025 – October 2025: After taking time to breathe, I began reorganizing my cards. I flew back to Türkiye and resumed my training. The reactions from fellow residents and faculty ranged from empathetic to supportive to, yes, a bit of schadenfreude. Honestly, my motivation didn't come back right away. I needed a distraction, so I started running. 

I ran without stopping, without checking pace or time. I didn't even own a smartwatch. I just ran until the only thing on my mind was the next inhale. After every run, I felt lighter. I kept running in every gap I could find. It became both a distraction and a therapy. I had a solid athletic background, but long-distance running had never been my thing. Slowly, I joined friends and running groups in Samsun and started exploring the trails — Samsun is blessed with beautiful paths along the shore and stunning trails nearby.

In less than three months, I completed my first official half-marathon. That finisher's medal felt like a quiet declaration of victory in the personal battle I had been fighting inside. Since then, I've had to pause a few times for minor injuries and demanding shifts, but I never fully stopped — and I hope I never will.

September 2025 arrived, and with it, the 2026 Match season. I updated my CV, personal statement, and letters of recommendation, and I applied — knowing this would be my last attempt at residency. If it didn't work, I'd pursue a fellowship after my current residency instead. I went all in: 50 IR, 50 DR, 30 TY, 30 GC — you do the $ math.

It didn't take long. Just two days after submitting, I got my first interview invitation. Others followed quickly at first, then slowed. In the end, I had seven interviews total — and this year, most were from top-tier programs: Cleveland Clinic IR, University of Miami DR, UTSW, and others. Even if I hadn't matched, just knowing those programs considered me a serious candidate was a huge confidence boost.

Honestly, I'm about as atypical as applicants get: zero USCEs, no massive research portfolio, none of the "standard" DR/IR profile. Just five months at Aarhus University Hospital in Denmark through Erasmus, an ongoing radiology residency, and a story I kept believing in. A story I didn't choose, but one that shaped my path — from Sudan to Türkiye, to Denmark, and now to the U.S. Adapting to medical school in a new language, balancing clinical work and USMLE prep while supporting my displaced family — all of it taught me persistence, and much more than just medicine.

March 16 – May 15, 2026: "Congratulations, you have matched!" / "Congratulations, you've completed a trail marathon."

I was on a bus back to Samsun from Ankara — just returning from a two-day trip that included a visit to the holy lands in Makkah, where I asked Allah for one thing only: let what is best for me happen. I barely asked to match, and I didn't ask for any specific institution. Then the email came. Alhamdulillah, I matched — and I believe with all my heart it's what's best for me.

I had already planned a ten-day vacation after Match Day to process whatever the results were. I even registered for a 42K trail marathon in Ephesus, İzmir. I hadn't been to Izmir in three years — not since I graduated from med school there — and I wanted to return just to run, breathless, without thinking about anything.

On race day, it poured. Mud to mid-calf. Water above the belly in some sections. I just ran. It was my first trail marathon; my previous longest run had been 26K. My muscles started cramping at 30K. I fell on an unseen rock beneath the water and came up with abrasions and blood everywhere. But for me, it felt like a flashback of my life's challenges: will I stop and lean on my very acceptable alibis, or will I keep going and let my story of persistence carry me to what I've always wanted?

I crossed the finish line in blood and mud — a proud trail marathoner. And with Allah's guidance, I'm an incoming PGY-1 TY at the University of Kentucky and a PGY-2 Diagnostic Radiology resident at the University of Miami / Jackson Memorial Hospital. I was happy but never truly celebrated until today, May 15th, when my visa was finally issued.

A few last words: I sell real stories, not stats. I was accepted into one of the best medical schools in Sudan before earning a scholarship to study at one of the best in Türkiye. I was torn at the time, but I took the risk and moved abroad. There were moments in Türkiye when I regretted it — but the outcomes were incredible.

So, I had to get accepted into med school twice. I had to learn a new language twice to study medicine. I had to take USMLE Step 2 twice (because of an unexpected power outage). I had to go through the Match twice. I will start a radiology residency twice. None of those "twices" were failed attempts — they were simply Allah's plan, a little different, and always for a better outcome.

Looking back, not being able to start my preliminary surgery year last year is exactly what led me to become a trail marathoner and, this year, a direct Match applicant — no repeated preliminary year — at a top-tier university hospital that just launched the largest ER department in the U.S., is already the largest hospital in the country by bed count, and houses a world-renowned transplantation institute. It is also one of the very few centers in the U.S. — and the first — with its own separate IR department, which reflects its robustness and aligns perfectly with my plans to pursue IR fellowship training.