“I
t’s no big deal, just the biggest
exam of my life.” The quote played
in my head like a broken record
ever since I’d first heard it. It was January,
about the time that all second year medical
students start developing borderline obsessive thoughts about the ominous USMLE
Step One exam, scheduled for the upcoming summer. While sitting in a study group,
I felt refreshed and entertained by an off topic conversation
until one student described his feelings about Step One with
this haunting phrase. Now, it continues to echo through my
thoughts day in and out as the summer draws nearer.
In response, I have found myself in the mad frenzy to develop
the most efficient and effective study plan, well equipped with
highly esteemed resources, refined review lectures and question
banks with 5000+ mind boggling, rip-your-hair-out, clinically
based quizzes. I find myself struggling between thoughts of
feeling unprepared and frustration that I should feel more confident based on the countless hours spent swimming in slides.
How can I feel so confident one day, and then be shattered by a
simple quote lasting a mere three seconds the next? Is this what
I signed up for? To feel the stress of defining the skills I gained
in the first two years in medical school in a one day, eight hour
exam? You bet it is.
Ever since the first day walking into University of Louisville’s
Kornhauser auditorium, the importance in performing your very
best on the USMLE Step One exam has been the main focus of
the basic science education courses. Every night, a student asks
herself why she puts up with school and studies until one’s previous everyday routine has become foreign, and every morning
the robotically trained medical student mind answers, “For Step
One…must do well…determines my future.” It sounds scary,
I know. So it is no surprise that my confidence can quickly be
humbled by one statement about Step One. However, reassurance
lies in the fact that if a million doctors survived the tortuous
first two years of medical school including USMLE Step One
exam before me, then my classmates and I surely can too. We
were chosen to attend the University of Louisville because a
select few people believed in us. They have seen the other side
of post-Step One life and know this exam exists only as a hurdle
to the beginning of our medical adventure. Maybe if we start to
think about Step One in a similar light, then we will find comfort
in picturing the larger idea about our life too.
After Step One, the life of a medical student changes. We will
begin to see the application of our basic science knowledge in its
most raw form. From sleepless nights in the Emergency Room
to looking at countless pediatric ear infections, we will begin to
take the foundation of our teachings and understand the intricate nature of medicine. Tying together our education with the
lives of patients is a complex practice I feel I have only skimmed
the surface in understanding. My grandfather, a physician in
Northern Kentucky, once explained to me that medicine is an
art; that we must learn to think inside the box but find creative
ways to reach outside it and mold it into a better one, to work
and listen as a team accepting criticism from other health care
providers and students, and to use our skill to paint a better
world for our patients. If taking Step One helps me get closer
to gaining the skill to become a better artist, then sign me up!
After reflecting on my balance between feeling anxious and
excited about Step One, I feel my decision to see it as an opportunity to prove I am capable of becoming an artist is the best way
to approach it. I still strive to plan and utilize my resources to the
best of my ability, but I no longer fear the resounding quote which
used to make my heart skip a beat. Yes, this exam may affect the
path I take in life, but I will not let it define my destination. In
looking at the larger picture, I believe that someone else believed
in me. Although I may have learned an unimaginable amount
of information in two years, I certainly do not know much. I do
not know what it is like to hold a baby after his birth, to cheer at
the high school graduation of a pediatric cancer patient, or sit in
meditative silence with a patient during a DNR discussion. Yet,
I am willing to accept the challenge to prove the picture I see is
my future, to be part of that community, and I will do what it
takes to make it my life. LM
Note: Samantha Sutkamp is a second year medical student at
the University of Louisville.
May 2014
A monthly feature written by the students of U of L Medical School
Samantha Sutkamp
Students’ Lounge
The Test of a Lifetime
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