One day, a young 36-year-old Radiologist, just having finished his residency, is working early Sunday morning. As he's new, he's been given the worst hours at his particular hospital. He's walking to his office, when he feels a sudden, intense chest pain. He thinks to himself "I'm too young to have a heart attack, but I can't work like this!" He checks himself into the ER, and orders a series of scans. --- The ER nurses tell him that he'll have to wait a few more hours, because nobody is on staff who can legally read his scans. Being the only radiologist currently in the hospital, he reads them himself. The doctor looks at his scans, says "Oh, shit!" and lies down. The nurses run to him, to see what is wrong. He is already unconscious. He dies less than an hour later. My pathologist comes in Monday morning, to find his friend in the morgue. He notes the irony, in that the radiologist's last diagnosis was correct: his own death. --- What killed the otherwise healthy, young radiologist? He suffered a dissecting aneurysm, where his aorta spontaneously ruptured. --- Morale of the story? Stress kills.