Oppenheim's Rule

Less in high school, more in college, and even more in medical school, students agonized before a test, suffering during, and grumbled afterward about how badly they did.

At some point in life, I had an epiphany. It occurred to me that I was smarter than most people. If a test seemed hard to me, it was certainly harder for everyone else. So I would do fine. When I decided to think this way, a great weight lifted from my shoulders, and I stopped worrying about exams.

As a certified family practitioner, I must take a test every six years to keep my certification. With no office practice, I can’t take the shorter test given to colleagues. It takes three hours; later someone visits the office to evaluate their charts. I must take the same day-long written exam given residents fresh out of training.  It includes subjects I’ve long forgotten such as obstetrics and surgery, so I spend a lot of time guessing. But I did fine in exams I took at the age of 39, 45, 51, and 57. By the time I was 63, the questions seemed harder, and I was guessing more often. For weeks afterward I broke my rule and worried. Failure would be humiliating. Also, I’d have to pay $800 to take the test again. But the rule held. I passed.