That’s how I started the final stretch before the boards.

Choosing Multiple Review Centers

I joined two full-length programs: Topnotch Medical Board Prep and ExpertMD Medicine Board Review. Those were the big names. Almost every graduate from my school did Topnotch. ExpertMD, meanwhile, had a rising reputation for breaking down Biochemistry, Pharmacology, and Pathology—three subjects that made me flinch.

That should’ve been enough.

But I also signed up for:

• Cracking D’ Boards’ Last Ditch Program
• Focus Review Center’s Final Coaching
• MedQBank by Dr. Karl Avillo, which included his high-yield explanations and even a one-on-one session.

I didn’t call this strategy. It was fear. Plain and ugly.

I had every reason to be afraid. Seven years in college. Shifted degrees. Failed subjects. Medical school was no smoother. There were long pauses, moments of giving up, and failed exams.

People had quietly given up on me. I knew it. And I was painfully aware this had to be my first and only take.

I didn’t have money. My wife had gone back to Canada and took over everything—rent, food, utilities. I had to pause my side business making stamps and prescription pads just to survive the review.

I don’t know how we made it through that season. But I do remember playing recorded lectures at 1.75x speed just to keep up. I remember not finishing many of the materials. I remember thinking—yes, this is overkill—but if I were to drown, I’d rather drown trying.

And each center had its place:

• Topnotch was clinical, structured, tried to teach you how to study.
• ExpertMD was creative and sharp, focused on helping you retain and recall the essentials in the basic sciences.
• I trusted ExpertMD with Biochem, Micro, Patho, Pharma, Pedia.
• I relied on Topnotch for Anatomy, Physio, Surgery, OB-Gyne, Legal Medicine, Preventive Medicine, and Internal Medicine.

Eventually, I had to filter everything. You can’t trust every system at once. But I didn’t want to regret not trying.

Would I recommend it? Not exactly. It steals your focus. But if you’re the type who’s already lost a lot, you might find this scatter-load strategy strangely comforting.

It did for me.

Customizing My Study Plan

I had never been that strict with myself before.

Topnotch provided a suggested calendar. I followed it—but I had to twist and stretch it around my own design. I was working with five programs, after all. Sometimes I skipped a session altogether. Not because I didn’t want to learn, but because I was too tired or too anxious to focus. And when that happened, I didn’t try to recover the missed lesson—I just moved on.

No time for guilt. Only moving forward.

My weakest subject? Always Biochem. Always. Since college.

My strongest? I never figured that out. I thought it might be Preventive Medicine, but my highest score was in Legal Medicine.

At one point I stopped caring. I didn’t need to be good. I just needed to pass.

That’s the hard part people don’t always understand—when fear replaces ambition. I wasn’t studying to top. I was studying to survive.

So I planned my days not by what I wanted to learn, but by what scared me the most. And I attacked that fear one lecture at a time.

Using a Question Bank for Reinforcement

If there’s one thing I’m grateful I did, it’s using question banks.

MedQBank by Dr. Avillo was golden. I don’t know how many people have said this before me, but I’ll say it again: this question bank doesn’t just test you—it teaches you.

I didn’t just read the answers. I dissected them. Even the wrong choices.

I took daily sets. At least five question sets a day, regardless of topic. I tracked my scores, hated myself when they were low, and redid the sets until I got better. I joined study groups and tried timed quizzes on weekends.

I simulated exams. I repeated questions.

And yes, I panicked. I still panicked.

Because the scores weren’t always good. And because it was easy to forget that practice tests are not the real test.

That’s my biggest advice. Don’t treat question banks like prophecy. They’re not previews. They’re tools. They teach you how to think, not what to memorize.

Question banks aren’t cheat sheets. They’re mirrors. Sometimes, they show you how little you know. Sometimes, they show you how far you’ve come.

Use them wisely.

Day and Night Study Grind

My schedule was ridiculous.

• Wake up: 6:00 am
• Coffee. Order food.
• Live lecture or replay.
• Question bank set.
• Brunch.
• Quick nap.
• Another lecture.
• More questions.
• Dinner.
• Sleep at 12 or 1 am.
• Repeat.

That’s 16 hours a day of review.

It sounds insane. It was insane.

There were days I couldn’t take it anymore. I stopped using social media midway. I even stopped meds because I was scared they’d make me drowsy.

That was a mistake.

My depression came back. Hard. And I broke.

I cried alone. I couldn’t go outside. I felt every demon from my past clawing back to the surface—failures, family wounds, shame. Everything I thought I had buried.

Eventually, I reached out. A virtual doctor prescribed something new. I restarted treatment. I kept going. I told myself, “You don’t stop now.”

That phase was full of sacrifices. My health. My routines. My peace.

There were moments I tried to do something light:

• Read manga.
• Watch a Chinese series.
• Play a number puzzle game on my phone.
• Sing Hebrew worship songs when I could.

But I couldn’t keep a full self-care plan. I survived on delivery food, random bursts of worship, and the love of people who never gave up on me.

My wife stayed on the phone when she could. My friends—busy doctors themselves—sent money, checked in, and treated me like a brother. Some were my classmates. Some were my lifelines.

One friend visited during Chinese New Year. We cleaned the house. That day felt like a break. A breath.

Another friend called me during my lowest. I didn’t even need to explain. He just understood.

There were review buddies too—ones who’d nudge you awake for the next live session. Who’d ask, “Okay ka pa?” between breaks.

And there was BINI’s “Karera.” I didn’t listen to anything else outside of church or Sabbath music. But that one stuck. That one got me.

I sacrificed everything I loved. And still, I didn’t feel it was enough.

But every time I wanted to quit, I thought of my wife.

She had left the country again for me to chase this dream.

I thought of the life we wanted to build, the years we lost, the months we endured just to make this happen.

I thought of my friends who refused to leave me behind.

And I thought, maybe—just maybe—I could do this.