Few days back I went to a Pakistani gathering where I was asked a question multiple times: How long have you been in Sweden? I casually replied: 2.5 years. What? I had to repeat it a few times inside my head to make sure it really was what I heard myself say. To be precise it's 2 years and 2 months. I was surprised how much time has gone by. But I was even more surprised by my own casual way of saying it, of making it 2.5 years even though it's been just over 2. Have I accepted this way of life? This sleeping in through half of the day, this doing nothing and still being content, this series of unproductive, unexciting days? Have I really? When I got my results two weeks ago, I though to myself: Do I have any desire left for working in healthcare? Do I even care if I clear this stage or not? The answer could easily be NO, in the spur of the moment. But once I reeled back my mind to April this year when I entered the hospital for a praktik. I tried to re-live the thrill ...