I’ve feared it, I’ve bemoaned it, I’ve ignored it — but the time has finally come. I’m going to start studying for the MCAT.

MCAT, for anyone who might not have been obsessing about this for the past six months, stands for Medical College Admissions Test. It is required for admission into every reputable medical school in the U.S. In an age where the GREs and the SATs are increasingly disparaged as in inaccurate measure of intelligence and are slowly disappearing from undergraduate and graduate applications, the MCAT exam continues to haunt the dreams of pre-meds nationwide.

There are four parts to the exam; biological sciences, which include biology and organic chemistry, physical sciences, physics and inorganic chemistry, a verbal section similar to the SATs or GREs, and a writing section that is graded separately on a bizarre scale of J-T. Each of the other sections is scored out of 15 points, for a total of 45. As far as I’m aware the maximum score is mythical; most students who get into medical school score in the 30s. One former postbac scored a 42 a few years ago and it’s still spoken of with a reverent tone.

I’ve never been much of a fan of standardized tests. I barely slept the night before I took the national exam for massage therapy, and that was pass/fail. The MCAT is like the mother of all final exams; the anxiety of every chemistry, organic, physics and bio test combined with a splash of fear that my verbal skills will desert me in my time of need. Let me put it to you this way; if I were offered instead to be jabbed with hot pokers for the four hours of the exam and be assured a reasonable score I’d probably do it.

Since the start of the program, the MCAT has existed in the back of my mind as a vague worry, but the full-fledged fear didn’t kick in until we were sent home with our study guides right before winter break. You know those three hundred page paperback SAT/LSAT/GRE study guides? That’s what I was expecting. Instead I was sent home clutching a four-book boxed set; the kind that comes in a cardboard case so you can keep them all together and then wrapped in plastic so none of the volumes can slip out.

The moment I returned to my apartment the study guide went up onto my bookshelf and remained there, untouched, for the duration of break and the start of semester. Other students talked about peeling the plastic wrapping off or starting in on a section or two; my study guide and I just eyed each other distrustingly as we went about our business.

Sadly, though, my days of obliviousness had to come to an end. Spring break arrived and with it the last of obstinacy. Before leaving on break I steeled myself and ripped the plastic from the cardboard case. Figuring my course load would be enough to keep most subjects fresh in my mind, I extracted the chemistry and the verbal reasoning volumes and slipped them into my backpack beside lab manuals and textbooks.

It’s strange; going into the postbac I felt as though I were signing my life away. Even though I knew it was just the first step on a much longer journey, I didn’t really consider the fact that it would someday be over. Now I’m two months away from the end. Terrifying as studying for the MCAT may be, it’s exhilarating to realize how much closer to my goal I’ve become.

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