This time in three weeks I will be sitting back in my chair, wondering whether my brain can hold any more information, and hoping that I have done enough. I will probably put my pencil down, slip my sandals on, and wander down to the beach to de-fuzz. I will probably feel my stomach flip a few times.
Before I started this degree, I knew I would have to develop study skills. I have never really applied myself to study before. I know I’ve worked harder and been more focussed than in any other degree, but I’m not convinced that there is any method to my madness.
It’s too late to reinvent myself, I know that. I’ve accepted that I’m only going to be able to focus on what is interesting to me at the time, and that this will not always have logical flow. I’m half-way to developing a ‘study system’ – a way of keeping track of what i’m supposed to have covered, and a way of making sure I’ve covered it. The end of first year med is probably not a great time to be half-way there. Three weeks out from exams.
It’s ok though, because thanks to my friend moot, shortcrust pastry and thirty-something years of knowing myself, I have a strategy. Not to freak out. That’s it. Breathe, and don’t freak out.
I know I know things. I know I don’t know things. I’m increasingly aware of the unknown unknowns, and am doing my bit to address them as they arise.
Last night I had a vivid med school dream, which is probably the first of many to come. In this one the lecturer asked how gold is absorbed in the body, and I explained that gold was taken up by the stellate cells of the liver. I think this is probably something to do with me having recently awarded a certain number of gold stars to various people. Whether this has any deeper psychological, clinical or academic significance is yet to be revealed.
Three exams. Three weeks to get my head there.
Three words: Don’t. Freak. Out.