TLDR (Too Long, Don’t Read) Part B was tough. It really puts you through your paces and makes you sweat. Unfortunately, there’s no gentler way to put it. It’s a dizzying brain scorcher of an exam that makes you question anything and everything you’ve ever revised and flips it onto its head until you wonder whether you’d even been to medical school to study Asclepius’ art. Parts of it felt reasonable, however, I feel it’s purely the stress of the exam that renders the experience so intense.
Whilst sat on the train en route to the exam venue, I thought back to my Core Surgical Training interview (more in my journal entry entitled Applying to Core Surgical Training: My Experience) and how I wished I’d utilised exercises such as nasal breathing to help calm my nerves on the day. Turns out, past Vasudev had some wise advice. The utility of this technique quickly became apparent during my Part B exam, as I would use the 1 minute rest between each station to discretely take a sequence of deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth. My nerves were otherwise going haywire and it took every effort not to lose myself in submission. By deep breathing after each station, I could quickly ground myself and mentally reset my mind for the next station, without carrying the extra baggage of the previous station.
In terms of preparation for the exam, I used some of the techniques outlined in How on Earth Did I Pass the MRCS Part A?; however I mostly relied on revision with friends, as this helped to put me on the spot and verbally explain concepts that I could only really recognise if I’d seen them in a MCQ (multiple choice question) format. For example, it’s actually rather difficult to articulate a perfect definition of a sebaceous cyst off the top of your head. Try it – tricky, right?
Safe to say, the examination was challenging and the result is yet unknown, however, I’m very much glad it’s over. Following on from Contemplations: 1 Week Out From Part B, I have more or less managed to rehabilitate my mental state to a place of centrality. The weekend on-call directly after the exam didn’t quite fit the description of “rest and recuperation”, but it did segue nicely into some busy annual leave and a plethora of wholesome activities, such as a reunion with family and friends and a brilliant city craft beer tour as a birthday gift from my other half (in case you didn’t know from my Instagram, I am indeed a basic, yet cultured, man who loves craft beer). The week ultimately concluded with a flight to Aberdeen for the Association of Surgeons in Training (ASiT) Council meeting, which was great fun not in the least because of all the sightseeing my partner and I managed to squeeze into the mere 3 days we spent in the city.
So, fast forward to 2 weeks after the exam, I’m exhausted, but content in the knowledge that I can now spend evenings and weekends guilt free doing the things I enjoy doing. I thought it prudent to therefore jot down some cultivations, to help mirror my Contemplations journal entry with some positivity.
Cultivations:
I feel lighter.
I feel free.
I can come home and enjoy cooking dinner, stress-free.
I can plan normal activities at the weekend.
I can socialise guilt-free.
I can refocus on work unrelated to the exam.
I can refocus on my Personal Journal and Podcast.
I can enjoy food that takes longer than 15 minutes to make.
I can have a lie in.
I can finally clean out the front porch and decorate it with plants.
I can go food shopping and spend longer than just enough time to buy bread and cheese.
Some of these sound hilariously banal, but this is the reality of exams .You go into survival mode and purge your world of all things excellent and fun. Even food shopping is a game of efficiency. I would choose the quietest time of the day and buy the barest possible essentials to ninja my way in and out of the supermarket. Like Houdini, but in Lidl.
So, that summarises my post-exam sentiments. Compared with my Contemplations, they are on the whole far more positive. Yet, looking back, I don’t feel resentful about how I felt before the exam. It was true, open and real, with no filter to airbrush over the cracks and crevices embedded into my morale. Moreover, in synergy with this journal entry, it creates a paradigm of hope and possibility in which the going may get tough, but sooner rather than later, it just as easily gets going again.
To quote myself (oh yes, the temerity):
I will be rolling on the grass; whether it’s greener or not, it’ll be the other side.
I’m finally on the other side.
Vasudev Zaver 