I still cannot believe it's done. DONE!
I have never had as much coffee, as much stress and as much panic all my life combined as I've had in the last one month. The January of 2017 was the most unnerving and aneurysm-popping month to have lived through. And although I do not have a lot to brag about, because the sheet of paper that holds my future in it still hasn't been printed, I do get a moment to vent. Maybe I do not deserve a celebration yet, maybe I wont even get to celebrate...but I do deserve a rant into space. Because the universe saw me. Me in my moments of despair. Me in my moments of choking tears. Me in my moments of utter helplessness. Me reduced to rags and ashes. The universe saw me live through that and now it must hear me scream and shout.
The final exams of the Final Year of Medicine are straight out of a child's nightmare. A nightmare that shows no signs of coming to an end. One after the other after the other, you just cannot stop to catch a breather. So yes, I've been running a rat-race since the 20th of January, which only just ended on the 14th of this month. Boy am I exhausted.
Pick up any day from the passing month and I can tell you that it was packed with anxiety, tremors, tears, pep-talk, despair, prayers and caffeine. Notice that I make no mention of sleep. Because sleep is for the weak. Slogging is victory. And what do I mean by slogging? Take a look:
And this is even before exams began!
The truth is, even after a month long exam preparation, you're going to run out of time. You are going to come to a point where the balance just doesn't tip in your favour. And this is the all-deciding moment: what to study and what to sacrifice.
Rheumatology or Endocrinology?
Bladder or Rectum?
Humerus or Femur?
Normal labour or Abnormal labour?
This vaccine or that disease?
This 10 marker or that 4 marker?
You have to ration, negotiate, analyse, decide and then valiantly stick to your decision, which has EVERY chance of being a bad one.
You chose to skip the vaccine? Very well, that's the one you're going to have to write about.
You chose Femur over Humerus? Tut tut, let's see you write an essay about the neck of Radius.
I make no exaggeration when I say this has been the toughest, most hectic month of my entire study. Time is not your friend and neither is guy setting your exam papers. With both factors against you, all you really have is a tug-of-war between despair and hope. Admittedly, there have been times when despair has won. Taking a nap with alarms scheduled to go off in 7 minutes, shaking all over as you try to have breakfast, eating and then puking it all out, crying for no reason at all and thinking if you're the only one this is happening to...is a pretty regular routine for people on my side of life.
And the experience of meeting friends on the morning of the exam. Those are moments of such restrained but palpable frenzy that one cannot fathom off hand. I call this an experience because NO ONE knows what it is like unless you're standing outside the exam hall 10 minutes before you go in and trying to cram in one last etiology, one last pathogenesis, one last treatment protocol that might decide success or failure. Those last few seconds of snatching snippets from here and there, being aware of every conversation around you as you assemble your stationery for the exam...as you finally slam your book shut and throw it into your bag...as you sit down to drink water to calm your hyperactive nerves....as you are checked for chits and devices of malpractice...every second of these moments may prove crucial in some form or the other over the next couple of hours.
But of course, the universal dictum of Medical Education: If you've studied it, it will not be asked. But you cram in anyway. You absorb as much information as is passively possible. Because at least you will know you've done your very best till the last glorious second. Those are the moments when you are truly united with each other. United by fear. United by hope.
I have not done well on these exams. I admit so quite honestly. My nerves have not kept up with me and my days have been pretty bad. So I am not proud of myself. If there ever was a practical example of "the calm before the storm," this must be it. I am making a conscious effort to let the monotony of life take over me this month. I cook, clean, eat, read, paint, play, talk, sleep and give myself just enough work to do in order to keep my mind occupied, but not encumbered. I have gone over the possible consequences in the future and I have decided to deal with them when they strike. Atleast this time, failure will not come as a surprise. If I couldn't be prepared enough to take an exam, I might as well be prepared to face the aftermath. This is not a survival story worth preserving like it's counterpart 4 years ago. The only sequel this story gets is that of sleep, rest and rejuvenation.
Because like Franz Kafka said: "If you wake the future early, you get a groggy present."
We party with Pizza instead ;)
The truth is, even after a month long exam preparation, you're going to run out of time. You are going to come to a point where the balance just doesn't tip in your favour. And this is the all-deciding moment: what to study and what to sacrifice.
Rheumatology or Endocrinology?
Bladder or Rectum?
Humerus or Femur?
Normal labour or Abnormal labour?
This vaccine or that disease?
This 10 marker or that 4 marker?
You have to ration, negotiate, analyse, decide and then valiantly stick to your decision, which has EVERY chance of being a bad one.
You chose to skip the vaccine? Very well, that's the one you're going to have to write about.
You chose Femur over Humerus? Tut tut, let's see you write an essay about the neck of Radius.
I make no exaggeration when I say this has been the toughest, most hectic month of my entire study. Time is not your friend and neither is guy setting your exam papers. With both factors against you, all you really have is a tug-of-war between despair and hope. Admittedly, there have been times when despair has won. Taking a nap with alarms scheduled to go off in 7 minutes, shaking all over as you try to have breakfast, eating and then puking it all out, crying for no reason at all and thinking if you're the only one this is happening to...is a pretty regular routine for people on my side of life.
And the experience of meeting friends on the morning of the exam. Those are moments of such restrained but palpable frenzy that one cannot fathom off hand. I call this an experience because NO ONE knows what it is like unless you're standing outside the exam hall 10 minutes before you go in and trying to cram in one last etiology, one last pathogenesis, one last treatment protocol that might decide success or failure. Those last few seconds of snatching snippets from here and there, being aware of every conversation around you as you assemble your stationery for the exam...as you finally slam your book shut and throw it into your bag...as you sit down to drink water to calm your hyperactive nerves....as you are checked for chits and devices of malpractice...every second of these moments may prove crucial in some form or the other over the next couple of hours.
But of course, the universal dictum of Medical Education: If you've studied it, it will not be asked. But you cram in anyway. You absorb as much information as is passively possible. Because at least you will know you've done your very best till the last glorious second. Those are the moments when you are truly united with each other. United by fear. United by hope.
I have not done well on these exams. I admit so quite honestly. My nerves have not kept up with me and my days have been pretty bad. So I am not proud of myself. If there ever was a practical example of "the calm before the storm," this must be it. I am making a conscious effort to let the monotony of life take over me this month. I cook, clean, eat, read, paint, play, talk, sleep and give myself just enough work to do in order to keep my mind occupied, but not encumbered. I have gone over the possible consequences in the future and I have decided to deal with them when they strike. Atleast this time, failure will not come as a surprise. If I couldn't be prepared enough to take an exam, I might as well be prepared to face the aftermath. This is not a survival story worth preserving like it's counterpart 4 years ago. The only sequel this story gets is that of sleep, rest and rejuvenation.
Because like Franz Kafka said: "If you wake the future early, you get a groggy present."
We party with Pizza instead ;)
