I should be proud to be a part of history.
I must be proud to be a part of history.
I am proud to be a part of history.
I could not really say that on behalf of my other Master program’s batchmates, but as time passed (as it always did without us having any power to do anything about it, except ranting about it, or making an unrealistic sci-fi film about time-changing power or machine), the first wave of adrenaline and cortisol surge is finally over.
No, the surge ain’t part of the history I was referring to.
Being the first batch of
guinea pigs trainees to went through the 1st Conjoint MOG (Master in O&G) Part 1 Exam for four universities was part of history, which thrilling enough to be worthy of quoting the significance of this exam as mentioned by one of our prestigious Professor back in our orientation in Bukit Gambang.
“We are going through evolution. We are getting better; we are no more testing you all on Basic Science as in other route of Part 1. We are testing you all on Applied Science. Smart Science. It is just asking about the basic science in everything that you do everyday.
In the core of it, the majority (or perhaps all) of us apprehend that short motivating speech in English down to each syllables. Yet, none (or perhaps, a minority of us) could hardly find comfort, not knowing how the examination would stray otherwise. Perhaps that’s part and parcel of being the
guinea pigs trainees. We need to expect the unexpected and respect the expected.
Being the evolution thing, as Charles Darwin beautifully described in his theory of survival of the fittest, obviously from the comparison of the attendance to this exam to the crowd in the Gambang’s orientation, there were few faces less.
I was shocked from crump to rump when I was going through the past year’s questions which covered a great range of questions and topics that mastering them would more or less hike up the unemployment rate of biochemist, microbiologist, physicist and etc.
The decision not to spread my neurons wide and far
to cover other distantly-required knowledge was a painstakingly difficult choice, requiring lots of convincing beta-blockers and relieving anxiolytics, literally.
Praiseworthy enough, the examination was kept at an extreme level of focus and relevance. Indeed, most of it was so down-to-earth that failing to excel in them, really suck us all into the harsh reality of how much we had failed to humbly look down and appreciate the vital supportive earth on our feet.
No matter how much I would like to be excused for my depleting memory space due to overloading of ground level basic sciences, honestly,
I am truly ashamed of my own weak grip on the basic footwork in this specialty.
At such ground level of focus and relevance, being lost in this examination became a cardinal sin, which none of us who called ourselves trainees should make, even at the highest level of elevated stress and adrenaline rush.
The unofficial results, hearsay and gossips apart, revealed a rather gloomy state of affair. Only four candidates passed the MCQs (with weightage of a quarter of the exam) and one third of us bite the dust for the entire exam – almost at the same level of the rising Caesarean rate.
Well, so much for having the ‘right cohort’ and forming the elite group of trainees to deter off the demanding critics.
Perhaps in the fine cuisine of excellence, stress and resistance should be part of the recipe, but not its major ingredients.
Fingers crossed, locked and cock up till next week.
Prayers better work this time round,
or else, like what I said in the beginning,
I am history (Not really proud of this version of history, though)