Expectations of Clinical School

Think of a staircase running from the ground up as far as the eyes can see. Every time you clear a step, there is another taking its rise from where you are, higher, steeper. But that is okay because with each successful step, you grow a little bit more – often just enough to tackle the next big step. First, it was the preliminary year, with all the time to kill (speaking in relative terms of course). Rolling in as the top guys wherever we were, we were in the mood to prove ourselves worthy of being here. It was a time, we were told, to ‘live the life’, as we may never get to be so free as we trudged on within the halls of the college. And so we did, or at least a handful of us. Others could not afford to take their eyes off the prize of a perfect CGPA; others yet married the two in a union so exquisite and fecund, it birthed 7-pointers ⁽¹⁾ who knew about every freshers’ welcome and every ‘turnup’ ⁽²⁾. Regrettably, some never cleared this first step of sorts. Why? Perhaps a cumulation of their personal choices. Or the aftermath of the travails of a people looking largely into themselves and not out. I doubt we will ever be able to say for certain.

Then came preclinical school. In hindsight, I do not think the numerous orientations and welcome addresses prepared our minds for what we met. Then again, I doubt anything or anyone ever teaches a thing so well as the experience of the thing itself. We grew again, my class, morphing into something remarkable, something beautiful. Borrowing the words of Maya Angelou, on the pulse of that new day, a people, realising themselves a pool of varied cultures, beliefs and ideas, had the grace to look up and out into their sisters’ eyes and into their brothers’ faces, saying simply, very simply, with hope, ‘together!’ Words became actions, and a certain ease marked our way as we drew strength from each other, plunging as it were into the vastness of gross anatomy, the stubbornness of neuroscience, the disdainful erudition of biochemistry and the gentle strictness of physiology. The much-feared exam, MB;BS Part 1 ⁽³⁾, came and went on by. Or perhaps it was we who dropped by for a visit.

Nevertheless, the curtains were drawn once again and we now stand at the intermission, getting set to begin our next great act: clinical school.  I think it is very human to desire a glimpse of the future. And rightly so, for like all survivors, we seek to employ our knowledge of what is most likely be, to make for as favourable an outcome as possible. Many quotes about experience abound and one speaks of the wisdom of he who learns from the experiences of others. I do not think myself wise but since I can, I will stand on the shoulders of those who have gone before me and say this much. Expect the limits of your strength and your will to be tested. Expect back-breaking hours and mind-boggling terminologies. Expect the good, the crass, the gentle, the violent, and every which way any given day can go. Expect also joy, for now, more directly than you may ever have, you will be doing what you can for the ailing. Expect growth, but do not just do that; seek it. Seek growth in values, in knowledge, in substance, in patience and in gentleness. Life can only do so much as present you with opportunities. As put aptly by another, these opportunities often come to us dressed in overalls, looking every bit like work. You can very well fall back on how disabling the Nigerian environment is – or other legitimate reason – and do less than that which the ‘thousand gleaming suns that hide behind your walls’ ⁽⁴⁾ demand. Or you can be brazen and bold like the famed Bhraman bull and persistent like flies on a carcass; deft at dealing the cards you have, like a magician with a deck of playing cards.

Finally, expect some days to dawn in a dearth of fire and feeling. On those days, find the strength to rise up and get conspiratorial against time: steal from each second one step forward, just the one.

⁽¹⁾ A term used to describe students with the highest possible CGPA, 7 points, as formerly used by the University of Ibadan.

⁽²⁾ A slang used loosely to refer to parties and social gatherings.

⁽³⁾ The ‘promotional’ exam taken at the end of the preclinical years. Referred to as the 2nd MB in some other schools like the University of Nigeria, Nsukka.

⁽⁴⁾ Clause inspired by lines from a poem Kabul, written by Persian poet, Saib-e-Tabrizi.