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…A secure future seemed mapped out for me. Too secure, too mapped out. If I carried on in medicine, I realized I’d have a pretty good idea exactly what I’d be doing ten, twenty and even thirty years from that moment. It struck me like a halibut from the North Sea that that was not the way my life should go at all. What was the point of working on through the age of sixty-five and taking a chance on a better reincarnation next time?
