I once had to get surgery on my 15th birthday. I’ve had only 2 surgeries.
I also broke my leg on New Year’s Day 2005.
(I can’t think of anything else at the moment)
**Any incidents in your life that occurred at the worst possible times?
**
Note: These do not have to be accidents, or injuries, per say, but anything serious in which something happened at a bad time…
Well, my grandmother died two weeks before my high school graduation, which kind of sucked a lot.
My boyfriend broke up with me, then my church collapsed.
I had finals and term papers due at the same time I had to move out of a house, and I had about two weeks notice. YAY. I did not do well. (Coincidentally, the same thing might happen to me again at the end of May. YAYY.)
My husband’s mother died on his fortieth birthday. I think she was hanging on to see him turn forty, but couldn’t quite get past the date. It was memorable, needless to say.
We found out my mother would lose her battle with cancer two days before my college graduation. She moved into hospice the day after I graduated, and passed two days after that.
My ex cheated on me with a former best friend and decided to end our 14 year marriage. The day directly after this, my stepfather was unexpectedly diagnosed with stage 5 esophageal cancer. The day directly after that, my real father called to inform me that his emphysema had progressed to the stage of needing nearly constant oxygen. Of course, all of this was piled onto a year that was really just one pile of crap on top of another. 2008 will not be remembered fondly by me.
That’s not too bad. Now, having to get surgery on your 15th birthday twice…
Through a series of unfortunate events, I broke up with my girlfriend all of three days before prom last year. We still went together, but it was fairly awkward. Other than that, my misfortune hasn’t been too inconvenient.
Oh, and I got food poisoning the night before getting up at 3 am to fly to Chicago for a full-tuition scholarship interview. I got it, but it was still massively badly timed.
I lost my dad and the last of my eight guinea pigs on the same day to cancer. I’ve said that my dad must have needed a buddy to keep him company on his way across the Rainbow Bridge.
I fell over and broke my front tooth…one Xmas Eve after all the dentists had shut shop and gone home for the holidays.
I contracted the mumps three days before I was due to give birth to my second child.
When I was a little kid, my mother had arranged her first holiday sans kids…four days away from us brats and very much looked forward to. I came down with the Asian Influenza virus which put halt to all her plans. Not bad timing for me, but for her…it was many years before I was forgiven. 
I got married on my wedding day.
I was hospitalized for pneumonia on my birthday once.
Yesterday, I had an employee getting ready to start and I needed to walk her through orientation. I had to do so over the phone via my bluetooth earpiece while pulling a tree out of my aunt’s house because said wooden bastard had crashed through the roof and totaled two cars. My very first employee. It did not go smoothly.
The same day I got fired from my job I loaned my car to my sister for a short trip to a friend’s house. She promptly got in a wreck. She was okay but my car was in the shop for about a month.
When I was a kid I had to go to the hospital on Easter Sunday and had my tonsils/adenoids out on Monday. I couldn’t eat anything out of my Easter basket for days. And I had to guard it from several siblings in the meantime.
Where do I begin…
Six years ago, I broke my ankle two days before Christmas, putting me out of commission for New Years and my birthday (sucky birthday right after the holidays) as well.
Four years ago, I was sidelined by strep throat on my birthday.
This past year, I was hospitalized right after Thanksgiving, in a physical rehab center over Christmas and out of commission for New Years and my birthday.
Years ago, the night before I was supposed to leave to visit my parents and extended family over Father’s Day, my billfold was lost, forcing me to cancel the trip.
About eight years ago, my purse was stolen while Christmas shopping. It was a short Christmas for most of the people on my list.
Oddly enough, I still love holidays.
The weekend after I attended my naturalization ceremony, I came down with appendicitis. I spent my first Thanksgiving as a U.S. citizen at LA County-USC hospital waiting for an appendectomy that never happened, while my family had turkey and entertained my great-aunt who was visiting from El Salvador for the first time in years. My parents visited me that morning, but great-aunt didn’t; she is known to be rather “difficult.”
On my wedding day, a major earthquake struck El Salvador. I found out during my wedding reception. I should have realized it was a sign.
Easter hasn’t been very fun for me in recent years. My daughter spent Easter of 2004 in the emergency room with a urinary tract infection. My ex’s grandfather died on Holy Week of 2007. We spent Easter at his wake. This past Easter, I got off relatively easy - I was recovering from a root canal, so had to eat my ham with one side of my mouth. At least I was able to eat.
My dog died on Christmas Day, in 2007. I’d had her for 12 years - half my life…
And I got chicken pox a week before my graduation photoshoot.
My father is in the hospital right now, and it could potentially be serious. For the past few years, it’s hit me every once in a while just how sick he is, and I’m about due for another episode. I have 4 papers and 2 projects due in the next month.
And naturally, I cannot for the life of me find my university’s bereavement policy. If he goes, there is no way in hell I will be able to handle any of those assignments, and I’d really like not to have to worry about that right now.
Jesus, that sucks.
My aunt died on Christmas Eve 2007.
And I got dumped the day I told my girlfriend I loved her for the first time.
Got a 7am phone call from my parents telling me that my grandfather had died just as I was leaving the house to catch a train to my best friend’s wedding.
Crazy friend came to stay when I was already struggling to cope with a newborn baby in a new country.
My father died the morning that he and my mother were supposed to come down to the college that my sister and I attended, to visit after not seeing us for a few months over the summer. (It was also the weekend before the start of the fall semester, so we both, while grieving and helping plan the funeral, had to call around and reserve our spots in our overbooked classes, lest we be bumped for non-attendance in favor of those on the waiting lists.)
More minor ones -