I was expected to die on a few occasions. Once when I was 7 and fell through the ice on a lake.
Another time when I wound up spending two weeks in the ICU alone and my parents were told I
wasn't going to make it. Another time when after finally going to the doctor he had me rushed to a
hospital and later told me he couldn't believe I was still walking around, much less going to work.
Death and taxes? pffft. Bring it.