I remember when our first-ever in-course results were released. They were for the anatomy of the upper and lower limbs. I had a D and a C, respectively. I was devastated. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I performed this poorly. But as usual, I smiled and pretended everything was fine. Then came my first physiology in-course result. I had an F, and not just that, it was the lowest in the entire class. That was when everything started to cave in.
It hit me really hard because, in 100 level, my CGPA was comfortably a first class. I was one of the best in my set. But now, it felt like all that meant nothing. I started asking myself questions: “Am I even intelligent enough to be here?” “Do I really deserve to be in medicine?” Impostor syndrome came in full force, and it messed with my confidence badly.
But soon enough, I realised I couldn’t give up. Too many people would be disappointed. People already called me “Doctor” everywhere — at home, in church, in school. So what explanation would I give if I failed? This was a course I wrote the UTME four times to get into. I couldn’t just give up after coming this far.
So, I decided to pull myself together and move forward.
Looking back now, I think what I lacked then was direction. As the pioneer set in my school, we had no seniors to guide us, no mentorship, no roadmap. We were figuring everything out on our own. And that affected me deeply. The transition from pre-med to preclinical was rough. That’s one thing I wish someone had told me earlier: “Once you enter the College of Medicine, it’s a different ball game entirely.”
One thing I’ve also learned is that medical school is not something you do alone. You need people — friends who push you when you’re tired, someone who will drag you to class or the library even when you don’t feel like it. I didn’t have that at first, and it made things harder. You can do so little in isolation.
Another big thing I’ve come to understand is that medicine is not just about books. You have to deal with other things — financial struggles, trying to do business on the side, leadership roles, spiritual commitments, relationships, and so on. For many of us, it’s not even the course itself that breaks you; it’s all these other things happening beyond the classroom.
There were times I got so busy hustling for money that I neglected my studies. Other times, it was leadership roles taking all my time and energy. I’ve learned the hard way that no matter how many responsibilities you take on, you can’t afford to lose focus. Balance is something I’m still trying to master.
Now, when I think about studying medicine and surgery, I see it like a journey on a typical Nigerian road. You’ll definitely face potholes, frustrations, inconveniences, and even moments where your “car” breaks down completely. But one thing is sure — 99% of the time, you’ll still get to your destination.
It might not be easy or glamorous, but as long as you keep moving, you’ll get there. Many people before us have done it, and so can we. The journey will test you, stretch you, and sometimes break you — but that’s also how you grow. Because truly, the higher you go, the tougher it gets.
As narrated by: Ayorinde Marvelous (Ila-Orangun, Nigeria).
This snippet is published as part of the series, Surviving Medical School.
Discover more from Chronycles
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Published by