I WROTE THE WORST EXAM OF MY LIFE

If you think this is just another medical student ranting about how tough his department has been- well, uhm… you’re right. I'm here to rant, unapologetically.

The chaos of medicine is like a hydra- cut off one head and two more take its place. I remember the sweet relief of completing and passing my first Medical Board exam (MB1). I told myself, "Medicine must peak here." Naively, I thought everything that followed would be smoother, easier even.

If I could do that, I figured I could handle anything.

Boy, was I wrong!

Intro posting hit like Thanos dropped moon on me. In preclinical days, we had maybe two classes a week. We'd speed through entire 250-page sections of anatomy in 30-minute lectures, then have days off before and after each exam.

But now? Ten-hour lecture days became the norm. After six months of peace at home, my academic stamina had vanished, and this sudden shift demanded a complete overhaul of my system.

I've never seen lecturers so interested in teaching. I just wish they were half as good at it. Born to conquer nations, cursed to sit through painfully dull lectures.

And that’s not even scratching the surface- SLIDES.

On the first day of posting, we had three. By the end? Nearly a hundred. Were they engaging enough to hold my attention? Maybe Hematology- the love of my life (and apparently, everyone else's). But the rest? Let’s not even go there.

Then came exam season.

"Start reading your slides from day one!"

"Start reading your slides from day one!"

Seniors drilled this into our skulls like we were getting lobotomized. Some students, the diligent and wise, obeyed. Others, ahem, did their own thing. #100 for whoever guesses which group I belonged to.

But here’s the mystery: why were all of us still stressed and complaining at exam time? Wasn’t the whole point of starting early to make things easier?

First exam day- pharmacology. It was… surprisingly kind. Seniors were jealous of our questions. We walked into the hall, bracing for obscure drug mechanisms, physostigmine, prednisone, muscarinic receptors, you name it, but didn’t need any of them. Basics saved the day. We were hyped.

Then came Wednesday: Microbiology.

They say there’s always calm before a storm. The first day had been our calm. The second? A massacre.

Picture this: a penalty taker always shoots left. Every keeper before you has jumped left and caught it. So, naturally, you plan to jump left too. But the moment it’s your turn, the penalty takers of MCB switches it up, goes right.

That was our MCB experience. We burned the midnight oil solving past questions, only for our exam to be the blueprint for future ones. Slide-reading wouldn’t have saved us either, there was no time. The general consensus was:

"I have never guessed this much in an exam in my entire life."

And then came Thursday- the final boss.

I prayed for a miracle. Surely, three exams in one day was just a joke. They’ll postpone one, right? They didn’t.

Two of the three had OSPEs- practical exams attached.

“Okay, Chem Path’s done. That wasn’t terrible. I’ll go out and prep for the next one.” But as I turned, questions for the next paper were already being handed out. No break.

Histopath followed. Classic USMLE-style questions, blurry organ slides projected like shadows in a horror film. Five minutes to review our answers- I used them to second-guess my guesses.

Finally, after a two-hour break (thank God), Hematology.

Sweet, sweet Hematology. My comfort zone. It went well, how could it not?

And that was it.

Some weeks humble you. This one practically body-slammed me. But amid the chaos, the anxiety, and the marathon of lectures and exams, there’s a strange sense of growth. Preclinical me would have been depressed after this kind of experience.

So yeah, I wrote the worst exam of my life. And somehow, I'm still here, standing, ranting, laughing, learning.

Medicine, you win this round. But I’m not done yet.