All Wrapped Up with a Bow on Top

Wrapping up the first semester of medical school is a beautiful thing! The hustle-and-bustle of Christmas ain't got nothing on prepping for the end of the block. Honestly, this was my least fussed-over Christmas ever, and I kind of liked that. While shopping, a cashier would cheerfully inquire, "Are you all set for Christmas?" and I would just as cheerfully reply, "It's gonna come whether I am or not." It was good to let go of that worry. Too bad I had other things on my mind.

Our histology exam was one week before Christmas, followed by a comprehensive biochemistry, nutrition, cell biology, and histology final two days later. A friend and I spent the day before the histology exam going through the 30 lectures and discussing what we thought were the top three to five testable concepts from each one. We parted in high-spirits and I rested easy that night. It paid off! I scored in the high 80s on that test.

The first couple of hours after the histology exam felt wonderful! A final exam grade of 65 would have been sufficient for me to pass the class with the required 75. I felt confident that it was well within reach. But then something happened. I don't really know what it was, but all I could think of was how poorly I had done on the biochemistry test. I tried to engage my rational brain. I knew that there were dozens of people who did worse than I did on that first test. I also knew that it was unreasonable to think that they poured themselves into doing well in the second half of the block while simultaneously relearning everything they did not master during the first half. Of course, that rationality did not do me much good. I was a mess.

I can't really put together everything that happened on that study day between the histo exam and the final. I watched some videos, did a few practice questions, looked at high-yield study sheets, but mostly kept trying to keep myself from freaking out. It was not a pretty place to be. But good things sometimes come from being in dreary situations. I finally saw how my approach to studying was out of sync with how they teach and test in med school. Silly, isn't it, that right before my final I exclaimed, "Oh! I've been studying all the wrong stuff!" A light went on. And while I wish that light had gone on a few months ago, I'm grateful that it only took one semester of feeling intellectually beaten-up to get it. That night I went to bed realizing that it was too late for me to make much difference on the outcome of tomorrow's exam, but early enough to make a major course correction in how I approached the rest of my schooling.

And my final? I got an 89. It's easy now for me to say that my anxiety was over nothing, but I know better than that. My New Year's resolution to "do better in school" is a tad more educated with significant insight into how to make that happen. Here's hoping that I wrap up next semester with a little more sanity.