End of Second Term: To Begin At The Beginning

With the latest GradMed cohort beginning the full preparatory course I’ve been thinking about when I did mine.

It certainly made for a memorable summer. At the start of the year I’d tracked down my old school science teachers and asked if they’d be interested in giving me some private tuition but they politely declined. I’d downloaded books and joined courses but none were helping me learn the science I needed to know in the way I needed to know it. How to think GAMSAT. By the time I stumbled across GradMed on the web I was pretty sceptical and increasingly worried I’d never have enough time to cover all I needed to for the exam. Even so I requested a prospectus. I remember coming in from work on a suitably depressing February Friday evening and the prospectus was waiting for me. As soon as I read it I knew it was for me. They presented a clear structure of what they planned to cover and how. I was excited but I wasn’t about to commit all my savings without speaking to people. The following Monday I had a very long conversation with Marea, the company’s founder, highlighting all my concerns which reassured me greatly. I signed up in March and started working my way through their extensive reading list (my choice) as well as some of their pre-course work, and slowly adapting my life (to not really having one!).

Now it was June and the reality of what I’d committed to was dawning on me. Although starting the course a full 3 months before the GAMSAT in September initially seemed excessive I quickly realised we needed all that time to cover everything properly. After the first morning I relaxed, relieved to know I’d have proper guidance (as opposed to me struggling with ‘A’ level revision guides) and a strong structure to my study in the run up to the exam.

I had no idea the calibre of teaching would be so high. I certainly never expected to enjoy myself as much as I did. Like many people, I had a deep distrust of mathematics. Yet mastering basic maths is a fundamental part of passing the GAMSAT and also, further down the line, in drug calculations (for example). By going back to the very beginning (a very good place to start!) I was able to build up my confidence.

I have an arts background so thought I only needed to focus on the sciences. What I wasn’t expecting was to be so stretched by the literature side of the course. To have my perceptions challenged so frequently. I know it’s not to everyone’s taste but I loved it. I loved being pushed around in my comfort zone. Because it made me think; about what I was trying to say and how I was saying it.

Nor did I realise how tired I would get. I really looked forward to the weekends but what with working full time and the voluntary work I was doing as part of my application there was no real down time. I’d find myself on a Sunday night with a buzzing brain but tired eyes. Yet it built up my stamina. Which is what you need for the GAMSAT.

On the days when I was struggling to fight the tiredness what got me through was knowing there would be lots of tea, coffee and (very yummy) biscuits in the break. How I loved those biscuits!

I was also surprised by how far many people travelled (some commuted from Manchester and Nottingham and a fair few flew over from Ireland) as well as the variety of ages and experiences (which is indicative of the applicants for graduate entry medicine). What we all had in common was trying to get that highly coveted place at our chosen medical school.

I remember saying on the first day how I expected us all to be terribly competitive and sworn enemies. The lady overseeing my enrolment laughed and said most people arrived with the same idea but that those sentiments would quickly disappear and by the end of the course we’d have developed camaraderie. I didn’t believe her. How could we? Even if there was space for all of us we mustn’t underestimate the calibre of the other applicants.

That’s when I discovered a key part to the psychology of the application process. We often credit others with more skills and knowledge than they have (this applies throughout medical school and, arguably, life) and underestimate how bad their preparation is. Rather than worry about the others, I needed to concentrate on getting my own knowledge base working for me. I was never going to grasp enough of organic chemistry to rival a recent chemistry graduate but as long as I understood enough to work my way through the exam that was fine. Because each year a proportion of GAMSAT candidates turn up to the exam having done no preparation and, surprise, surprise, they fail.

Interestingly on the morning of the exam (having not slept a wink the night before) I found I was happy to see familiar faces in the sea of hundreds of candidates. I thought I’d turned up to register at a reasonable time but there was already a queue around the block. That’s when it really hit me just how many of us across the country wanted this. It was strangely calming knowing there were other people in that room with me who had shared my journey and that we could go for a drink and a debrief after. Which is exactly what we did. The enrolment lady was right; we had developed camaraderie.

GAMSAT is a marathon exam. Afterwards I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was sleep for a week. Yet by the following weekend I found I missed the course. Because even though I didn’t know whether I’d passed the exam I missed the people and the sheer joy of learning. My summer had been defined by the course. Whatever the result was I knew I’d given myself the best chance. And I’d had fun.

Not all of us got into medical school. One chap passed the GAMSAT but failed the interviews. When I told him I got my place he was thrilled for me. He said he was disappointed he didn’t have a place but was so glad he did the course. “They did exactly what they said they’d do. They got me to pass the GAMSAT. I had a great summer; made friends, learnt a lot (not least about myself), and I tried. I’ll never regret not giving it a go.”

I think that would have been my sentiment had I not got a place. Instead it became the first chapter in the Awfully Big Adventure that is my medical training.