Chapter 71

I got ready for my test and drove all the way up from Toronto to Waterloo to write it. While I was a bit uncertain about going on campus, since even during the summer term there were optometry students around, I wasn’t too concerned. The Moldova trip had given me enough confidence that even if someone found out about my failure, I’d think I could live with it. 

I got to the school by GO bus and studied the entire time on route. When I got to the school, I got nervous but didn’t waiver. I walked into the secretary’s office and told them I was here and ready. They told me to wait outside and that someone else would be joining me as well. I was taken back.

Someone else? 

As it turns out. I wasn’t the only one. That’s right. All this time in Moldova and during the beginning of the summer, I thought I was alone in this messy failure but as it turns out. I wasn’t. I would be writing with someone else in my class who also had missed the passing mark. This didn’t suit the narrative in my head about how nobody failed classes in our school. 

I mentioned previously that if I passed the supplementary test, my courses would continue on without as much as even a break. The thing was, I never thought that people used this option. In fact, when I first heard about the supplementary test, I thought that it was designed specifically for me because no one had failed before. But now? In one term there were two people in the same boat? How did that make any sense? 

This would have been an impossible thing to test as no one really openly talked about failing courses. However, if it could happen, then it must have happened before, right? These thoughts came to me and started to become little pieces of the puzzle. It revealed to me the true nature of Optometry school. Maybe there were more failures than I initially thought. While this definitely needed some more exploration, it was not the time to do it. I had to write the exam.

While the old me would have thought firstly about how now someone would know that I’ve failed, the new post-Moldova me didn’t care much. In fact, it was nice to do the test with a classmate. A few minutes would go by before my classmate showed up and then, they appeared. The first thing I noted was how they appeared to be better adjusted than me. 

We very lightly joked about the situation at hand and then waited for our proctor to come and get us. I wanted to speak more about the situation but I knew that my nerves wouldn’t be calmed by casual conversation. In fact, the only thing that would calm me down right now was looking at my notes again. 

My classmates did the same. We sat there in anxiety waiting for the proctor to show up and sure enough, they arrived shortly after. Then. It was time. We went into the staff room and started the exam. 

As much as I would like to say I didn’t struggle at all. That wasn’t true. I did struggle a bit. However, you can only struggle so much when the test is being issued for essentially the second time. I knew basically exactly what I was getting myself into and knew all the material that the professor wanted drilled into my head. Armed with this knowledge, I was pretty much done with the material around an hour into the three hour exam. Still, I stayed the entire time just to double check I got all my answers right. 

After the supplementary test. I chatted with my classmate and we briefly had a chat about the situation at hand. There were some complaints and some frustrations with the school but we didn’t stay too long. I mean. What’s done is done. There was literally no point in crying it anymore. We said our goodbyes and went our separate ways, hoping that we’d find outseves in the same class the next year.

After this ordeal, it was time to wait for the guillotine to drop again. While waiting for the results, I started to reminisce about my time at UW Optom and my class. Afterall, it was really a possibility that I may never see them again. Different years rarely hung out with each other regularly and even if it did, it would be incredibly awkward. I thought about the situation and got more and more sad. How did it all come to this? Oh yeah…

The method of testing, the messy notes, the amount of substitute teachers and the school’s ignorance towards the problem. That was how it came to be. Well. I am not without blame. I really did need to memorize more things but still, the school being blamed felt better than taking sole responsibility. As these thoughts trailed in and out of my mind, the waiting game got harder. 

The worst part of being a cynic is that you don’t have stagnant thoughts. Your mind works non stop thinking about the absolute worst in everything. It started with me thinking about how the course really screwed me and how the school is horrible in its handling but soon after that, it seeped into other aspects of my life. It wasn’t long before the cynical thoughts went into the trip I had with VOSH. It was the most recent thing that happened in my life so I guess it made sense. When I arrived at thinking about the VOSH trip, I was suddenly made aware of how positive memories and experiences in the past can be easily distorted into negative ones by means of over thinking. 

While I did want to avoid going down this route, my brain just wouldn’t let up. The thoughts came from the idea of how much we actually helped the locals. 

Excerpt taken from “misc rants”

Our goal [the Moldova trip] was to improve a few lines of acuity for the locals but this was a poor excuse for an exam by Canadian standards. In Canada, we were always aiming to get our patients to see 20/20. In Moldova, the goal was often times around 20/40, meaning we’ll be trying to get them to see half as good. That was all our resources allowed us to do. Sure it’s better than nothing but by how much? By all Canadian vision measurements, it wasn’t a lot. 

Did I go on the trip for myself then? I mean, I did benefit out of this. VOSH did give me a charity tax receipt for about double the amount I put in. If I didn’t help the locals that much, maybe this was all it was. I was just looking for financial gains. Was I doing this for myself? 

Were we really doing anything useful? If I wasn’t doing something useful, was I doing it for myself only? If my volunteering was a sham, were all those positive experiences I had from the entire trip a sham too? 

Maybe the imposter syndrome had gone away by accident. Maybe it should have stayed. Maybe I am not Optometrist material.

[abrupt cut-off]

End of excerpt

While writing this excerpt, dark thoughts came on and surrounded me. I felt the abyss. Why help out others? Our efforts were miniscule in nature to the grand scheme of things. Luckily, this ordeal was abruptly cut off because as I was writing, I got an email.

Ding!

“Congratulations, you passed the supplementary test!”

I cheered.

As I did so, all the nihilistic thoughts disappeared. I was happy. I had made it through. This was a wakeup call. Never again will I do what I did last term. I was not going to fail any more tests. 

Ever. 

Again. 

Like forever, ever.

Again.

Never.

I won’t fail anymore…Right?