Here’s what my second year in med school looked like. Especially the exam period
0: Genesis
Things started to get real the evening I picked up my phone, aimlessly entered the class WhatsApp page, and saw a cryptic message from my ClassRep. It reads: “March 18 is sacrosanct”. First, five minutes extra-terrestrial discombobulation. Hollup, hollup, January just barely started. I mean, was it not last week we celebrated a new year? What’s going on, please? Kilo fe sele ni March? What’s happening in March? Who is getting married? What is all this plix? Of course, the message generated a lot of reaction from my classmates. In medical schools, exams are one hell of a defining moment. So, from the first day of the session, you know you will write a board exam at the end of each class. You know your medical future hangs on passing those exams; you know the exams will come.
What do you mean March 18 is sacrosanct?
ClassRep dan Allah o
ClassRep, please resend upper limb materials
Please where did we stop in Abdomen?
ClassRep, when is BCH test oo
Please who is with the new Respiratory physiology material?
Abeg make person follow ClassRep talk abeg, we never even cover half of systemic oo.
The exam can’t be in March. It is After Ramadan.
Someone should send the old Renal physiology slides
You and who will read these 400+ GIT slides?
Messages upon messages. Silent prayers. Outbursts. Internal chaos. Acute dawn of realizations. Things started to get real. I came up with a new mantra: And my Lord will never abandon me.
1: Everything You Dread Will Happen
The thing about medical school that makes it intriguing is not the voluminous amount of information needed to be covered. It is the fact that this place tests your will, attempts to break you into a thousand pieces, offers you fresh pain after pain, and just the right amount of laughter marinated in ache. And then asks you: what else can you take? How far can you go before you snap? Will you ever reach your elastic limits or you find the strength to finish the program before med school finishes you? That was my situation early in January. I knew I’d be writing two career-defining exams this year, so I posted it on my WhatsApp status on New Year’s Eve. All I wanted was to blitz through those exams and not have my wings trapped. I knew it wouldn’t come easy; I knew I had to work. I just did not envisage that it’d take this much hard work from me for it to work.
I quickly revamped my reading timetable. I, who cannot stick to a schedule started reading with a timetable. I gathered all my materials, past questions bank, test questions, old notes, this and that. I tried to enter the exam-mode phase but was stuck in the normal class phase. Classes were still ongoing, we had a shit ton of tests to write, dissections, and practicals, and I just could not concentrate on preparing for exams when I don’t even know if I’ll pass the next physiology test. So I was reading for both, giving tests the bigger chunk of time.
On the last days of January or thereabout, the exam timetable was officially out and March 18 became a day etched into my mind. January sped through, and February was flash. I had an accident on Feb 14 and spent weeks recuperating. I wrote about it on my substack. My biggest fear was that the accident would impact my life so badly that I would miss out on the exam or I would fail. I struggled so much during that period, sat for an Abdomen test and failed. Luckily enough, my Lower Limb compensated.
2: Everything Is an Attempt to Break You
When it was exactly four weeks to the exam, I knew there was fire on the mountain. A senior colleague once said “Everything will make sense on the day the exam timetable is out. You’ll feel like you don’t know anything until a few days before the exams. That’s when all you know, all that is stored in your memories will resurface. That is when you will know if you have truly covered or not”. I lived through that. Weeks before my exams I was stuttering, everything was looking new and I was shit scared. Because writing is how I let things go, I was too scared to write, so I did the second best thing, cry. I was crying almost every day inside my room. Because what do you mean I’m going to carry this empty head and write that exam?
My anxiety level was off the roof, I was hyperventilating every damn time. I could picture my failure in 3D and since I am one of the most popular people in my class, I imagine how much ridicule I’d suffer when I finally failed. Three weeks before exams, I stopped going to classes. I stabbed dissection. I told myself I had garnered enough attendance already, and HOD would understand if they didn’t see me in class. I cannot continue like this; I cannot function carrying this guilt, this sense of imminent failure around. I need to change. I needed a miracle and it must happen fast. And on that day things did change.
I started putting in 19 hours or more of reading at a stretch. I was running back-to-back TDB. There were days I went 24 hours without sleep. What is sleep? Sleep is for the weak abeg. I’d wake up at 4 AM or thereabout, start with a revision whilst simultaneously working on breakfast. Work my way up from revision to newer topics, then finish off with a test on what I’ve learned. I was also making notes along the way. It was hectic, it was stressful; my hands ached and cramped and I was barely human. My reading style, as I’d learn is marathon. I don’t know how to read with regular breaks – one break and I’m back on social media. And when I do finally get myself to end the break and go back to my books, the energy level will not be the same.
So, the only breaks I took were to eat, walk around the house, and chit-chat for a few minutes. While I was doing these non-academic things, I was using a part of my consciousness to check MCQs, revise a strategy or remember a question or mnemonic. There was no time within the last three weeks before my exams that my mind was not in sync with the fact that I had a jaw-breaking promotional exam to write soon. I sat for so long that my trousers were damp – I guess you could say I was sweating my asses out. Mild cramps in my joint for sitting too long; I think if I had sat for longer hours, I’d permanently reshape my spine.
3: The Gift of Family, Friends, and an Invaluable Support System
People came through for me during my difficult times. I had senior colleagues who were interested in my well-being – academically and psychologically. Abdul was in my DM egging me on, always telling me how much he believed in me. At a point, I just felt Abdul was being delusional because how could he be so confident when he wasn’t in my head? There was a day I was on edge and Abdul was there with all his positive affirmations that I was so close to lashing out. And I think I knew why he was always like that. Abdul was one of the four senior colleagues I approached for orientation when I was about to resume med school. So deep down, I assume he sees me as a mentee and just cannot let me wander.
Amana, Olori Ebi, and the SWEMSA guys were fantastic. HITS, Blessing, Zak, Femi, JB, Water, and Peter were seniors who genuinely devoted time to me. And it was humbling because these guys too have their exams. I could remember JB was like send me any anatomy question you have that is troubling you, I’d solve it and get back to you ASAP. This is someone who was in the middle of his professional exam period. I do have quite a cordial relationship with many of my seniors, so I don’t find it hard to relate with them.
I had and still have DON. If I attempt to put into words how much DON did for me, I think I’d fall in love with him. Nobody came through for me academically like DON did. Bro saw me struggling, held me together, and said, Ololade lift because you are not meant to stay grounded. I’d call DON any time of the day and he dared not leave me unanswered. I’d rant, and meet up in school for him to share insights and go through my academic progress. He gave me the final strategy I used for my exam too. DON made sure I wasn’t stuffing myself with dead spaces. I don’t like it when I have classmates shouldering my weight with theirs, especially since we’d be writing the same exams, so I rarely ask for assistance from a classmate. There were a number of them who suggested tutorials and volunteered to teach me a concept or walk me through a problem, but I kinda declined. I’d feel guilty taking out of their limited time.
Aarinola, Asiwaju, and Ope were the long-distance support systems I heavily relied on. Ope is a medical student at OAU, and even though he wasn’t here in Sokoto, he was around me weeks before the exams, the whole exam period, and the days that followed. Aarinola & Asiwaju, my favorite women in the world had me in their prayers, called frequently, and ensured I was in the right headspace. They made me laugh and made the whole period comfortable for me. Asiwaju was writing her third book during that period, was my accountability partner, and kept progress of my results too. Aarinola was supposed to be working on her final year stuff and the online courses. Somehow, everyone around me created space for me. And I basked in that bubble, in that green zone, and I was safe. I felt safe.
Olaide and Nafiu were the newbies in my hostel. They are both second-year medical students. They were my food plug during exam weeks and the days before it. They’d cook and bring food for me. Nafiu had all the kindest and nicest things to say to me. Ololade, don’t worry you’ve passed. Ololade, try to sleep now, Ololade koni su e, ko ni re e. My roommate, a 3rd year MLS student knew I needed all the space I could get, so he made the room convenient for reading, ensured he was minimal disturbance, and prayed for me too. I remember I had extended him the same courtesy when he was writing his professional exams too.
My Grandma, Big Mum, Grandpa, and siblings also held my fragile frame and supported me in their ways. My Grandma called me every morning before my papers and prayed for me. My grandpa was just sending money every week. My siblings took over my bills, and my Big Mum was her usual sef – my favorite son cannot suffer in med school so I’d rather starve than watch him experience any form of discomfort. I remember two months into schooling when I called a family meeting and announced that I was dropping out because no normal human being should be subjected to this kind of torture med school dishes out. Since then, my family has been extra supportive.
At the end of the day, when I think about it, I realize I owe my success to God and all the amazing people he surrounded me with.
4: “Examination Weak”
Everyone around me knows I struggle to keep to time. 8:00 AM exams and it would never dawn on me to go take my bath until it was 7:40. I don’t know why, but I’m an adrenaline junkie. I needed to be on that precipe of falling out to function. So it explains why despite how we’ve been told to be at the exam venue 30 minutes before the commencement of the exam, I got there 7 minutes before 9:00 AM. Another enabler of my lateness is how far behind my name is on the class list, so when it comes to marking attendance or anything that has to do with roll call, I know I’d always make it before they get to my name. There was a day they were calling attendance during practical and a friend called me just as they were about to start calling the names. I left my off-campus apartment, walked out of my room, took a bike, and got to class before they’d get to call half of the names on the class list. I got credits for the practical.
Anatomy was the first paper, and maybe because it was the first war, I was sufficiently prepared. I tackled each question to the best of my ability, attempted the ones I wasn’t damn sure of, and ensured I left no stone unturned. I was late for paper II, so twenty minutes was deducted from the 60 minutes duration. I cyclone through the questions like they were already imprinted on my memory. I finished 80 MCQs in less than 40 minutes. That’s about less than 30 seconds to read a question and the options and pick the correct answer. I knew I was operating on beast mode just to compensate for the lost time. At the end of the paper, the president of my MSA and other executives were waiting outside to cheer us on.
Physiology was the weapon fashioned against me. Just when I thought the paper I was the worst that could happen, paper II showed me premium shege. First, the theory were unexpected questions. You know when lecturers known to repeat past questions decides to set new questions & experiment with your set, that was the jaw-dropping surprise we met. Also, time just flashed through and three hours seemed like 20 minutes. Then I carried the thoughts of how bad paper I was into paper II and just couldn’t finish the 240 MCQs in 90 minutes. Then I got slapped with a penalty too – a minus 10 mark in the MCQ because I was still shading after time up. I was just totally destabilized. I finished the physiology exam and slept for about 4 hours straight because I was just too tired to even cry.
Biochemistry was the last paper. Egun nla ton keyin igbale. The big masquerade that performs last. A few backstory here: I have a love-hate relationship with biochemistry. It was the least studied course; I gave it little attention. I have been studying it for a very long time. I did BCH until the end of my third year during my undergraduate studies at OAU, so I have fairly decent background knowledge of what I’m dealing with. All those years, I never loved BCH because of the poor teachers, I still don’t like it now despite having better teachers. BCH is just that classmate whom you don’t talk to even though they never crossed your path.
Since I had flunked physiology, I was hoping to compensate with BCH and that was when it dawned on me that I had over neglected my BCH. The exam itself was smooth but it was unnerving up until I entered the venue. First, we started with paper II and because I was trying to be careful, I left a couple of questions unanswered thinking there was a negative marking in place. Also, the hall was rowdy because three different departments were writing different exams inside the same hall, and time just blitzed through. My BCH wasn’t on the great start I’d hoped. Then came the break before the paper I and my anxiety placed me in a chokehold. I was hyperventilating, restless, trying to cram all the areas I had not touched before. Those four hours before the second part was chaos unbridled. Surprisingly, the paper was fair and I was able to attempt all the questions. BCH was the only exam I was able to finish way ahead of time, submitted before time, and felt relaxed writing it. I remember asking one of the supervisors, “Sir, time please” and he said “Just continue to write don’t worry about time.”
5: How it ended
I will be very honest here. When I wrote this part on the 29th of March, 2024, my results were not out and just the thought of it scares me. I remember DON used to say there is nothing more gut-wrenching than writing an exam and not knowing whether you’ve passed or failed until the results come out. So I go into each exam with the mindset that at least by the time I submit my paper, I should be able to fairly gauge my performance. I should be able to say I have written what is enough to get me a passing mark. I may not be able to precisely predict my final score but I should have that feeling that I have passed.
So you can imagine how elated I feel after each paper. That feeling of, Ololade you have honestly done your best in the context of each paper, and given another chance, you’d obviously perform better. I go about my break now, not anxious to see whether I passed but speculative about what I passed with.
On the 12th of April, my results were release and I passed. I was promoted and officially a 3rd year medical student.
I am grateful for the opportunity to learn, grow, and pass through this phase of my life. My Lord truly did not abandon me. Fabi Ayyi Ala I Rabbikuma Tukazziban. And which of my Lord’s favours shall I deny?