I got my period the morning of my wedding - not such a big deal.
My grandmother died 4 days before my son was born and the contractions got nice and regular right in the middle of her funeral.
One of my closest friend’s father was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig’s the day after Christmas. He died Christmas Eve the following year.
My father died two days after my 15th birthday. It was a long, withering illness, so he was in such rough shape then that that birthday was pretty much non-existent.
I managed to get chicken pox over Christmas my senior year in high school, and then had pneumonia during finals my senior year. I look pale and weak in all the photos around graduation.
Then during my first quarter of coursework in graduate school three close family members died, two of them very unexpectedly. I kept telling family I’d see them at Thanksgiving and then returning, shell shocked, a couple weeks later for another funeral. Spring quarter that year I was in the hospital having an appendectomy during two of my graduate level physics finals.
My step mom died on the evening of my high school baccalaureate (sp?) and my dad decided to do her funeral right during the middle of my graduation.
Quitting my programming job because of stress and a major stress-related injury; and deciding to take a year off to recover myself.
Last day; August 24, 2001.
Economy went away about 3 weeks later. Guess why.
Never able to get back, although I recognize that most of that is my ancient skills combined with no new training.
I moved to Minneapolis the day the bridge collapsed. Other than that and a few other bizarre coincidences, I’d say I fell in love when I was too young to know what the hell I was doing. I’d say it was the only break up where nothing went wrong, and there was no real incompatibility, other than the fact that I was a kid, and there was a big, wide world out there.
I woke up with chicken pox and a 103F fever on the day of the SATs my junior year of High School.
My dad had a heart attack the day my daughter was born.
My 15 year-old cousin died three days before my 19th birthday. Yeah, that sucked…I didn’t even remember it was my birthday until someone said something to me.
Found out my boyfriend was cheating on me on New Years Eve 2000. Jerk.
Had a miscarriage the day before Thanksgiving 2006. (But then had a baby Thanksgiving 2007, so a year can make a big difference!)
This past winter, I broke my ankle three weeks after my boyfriend lost his job. That sucked because he’s only just today received his backdated unemployment payments, and I had to take nearly six weeks off from work to heal up. I ended up having to cash in my IRA so that we could pay the rent.
Several years ago, my younger brother was getting ready for prom when our dad had to tell us that he was going to be arrested soon for growing pot. My brother was pissed.
On February 13, 2007, my boyfriend baked homemade eggplant parmesan for dinner, using a bag of pre-grated Kraft cheese. Sometime in the wee hours, he and I woke up with the most godawful food poisoning we’ve ever had. On top of that, I had a major project due the next day at work, so there was no question of me calling in sick. I spent Valentine’s Day running between the computer, the printer, and the bathroom; I couldn’t keep anything down (even water) until late afternoon. My boyfriend had eaten more of the eggplant parm and was even sicker, but he was able to stay home from work. When anyone asked me what he gave me for Valentine’s Day that year, I answered, “Food poisoning!”
I don’t know if this really fits the OP, but it was an odd coincidence related to a bad event…
I was watching an episode of ER, in which the whole show followed the treatment and thoughts of a woman who just had a stroke. Halfway through, I got a call from my brother, saying that our mom was just taken to the hospital because she had a stroke.
On my 28th birthday I got hit by an 18-wheeler. In the ER, they asked me my birthday and I answered, “June 10th.” They thought I thought they’d asked what the date was and were getting more worried every time I repeated the answer. I knew what was happening but was feeling pissy (Back boards and neck braces do that to me) so I just kept giving them the same answer without clarifying. Finally, they looked at my drivers liscence and then got sympathetic about getting hurt on my birthday.
Early to mid-2000’s were extremely sucky.
My mom was commencing major delusions due to Alzheimer’s, the last of my beloved pug dogs died, I started feeling the first emotional disturbances due to menopause, and my husband lost yet another job. All within about a 1.5 year timespan.
Crappy timing, indeed.
I once spent months trying to convince a female friend of mine that we should be friends with benefits. On the night I was finally successful, I went far too long without eating and my equipment wouldn’t rise to the occasion due to blood sugar issues. Rather than giving me five minutes to eat a sandwich, she took that as a sign it wasn’t to be.
If we’re throwing in prolonged periods of bad events, let me give you 2001 (seriously, take it. I don’t want it now any more than I did then.)
July: I lose my mother to cancer after a decade-long fight with chronic bronchitis
Sept 11
Later in Sept I lose my job/career due to undermining by a new VP at my company, which turns into a two year stretch of driving a cab before I can land another professional position
October I wake up one morning with a spontaneous pneumothorax (collapsed lung)
December my then-wife gets into a car accident in which her right ankle is shattered in six places. The other driver, who caused the accident by running a red light, is ejected from his vehicle, lands in a canal and drowns before cops and rescue workers locate him 2 hours later. They thought he fled the scene on foot. My wife had reconstructive surgery on her leg and spent five weeks in a wheelchair, then 12 more on crutches. Merry Christmas and happy new year.
Family gathered to celebrate my sister’s 10th birthday. Dad begged off to play golf. When we got home the house was locked up and a note on the door to my mother siad “Go home with your parents. We’re through.” (It said other stuff). My sister hates her birthday.
My grandparents died in a house fire on their son’s birthday (the week of Christmas).
I left a great job to take what I’d thought would be a greater job…managing a new retail location for a NYC company. The opening was originally scheduled for September 15, 2001. It was a rough first year.
Me: somersaulted down some steps on the second day of our vacation to Arizona, breaking one elbow and injuring the leg muscle pretty badly.
A colleague, many years ago: was at the hospital with his wife, who was giving birth. Someone called the office and his boss picked up to take a message for him. She waited an hour or two to deliver the message - figured he needed a little time to enjoy the newborn before finding out his father had just died.
Quoth Captain Carrot:
Don’t try to find it by poking around through the university website or the booklets they gave you at orientation. Your department probably has a secretary or the like in the main office who keeps everything running smoothly: Ask her. If you don’t know who the secretary-type person is, then ask one of your professors that you get along well with.
My mother twice broke a hip in December, once on the tenth during my senior year in high school, and once on Christmas Eve, twelve years later.
Mom died on my niece’s wedding day, although that wasn’t quite as bad as it sounds, since the wedding was in Florida and nobody but immediate family was there. It was a tough decision whether to call and tell them the next day, though, or wait for them to come back on the day after. Her funeral ended up being the day before another niece’s elopement. We didn’t know about that one until afterward.
My youngest got sick right before the weekend that my husband and I planned to take a weekend away to celebrate our twelfth anniversary. We had to cancel the reservation, but as it turned out it was probably for the best. I had a recurrence of a neck spasm that weekend and spent most of it not being able to move.
Of course, we did finally take that trip, to the nice hotel close to the Mississippi river, in July, of 1993. The drive out and back was interesting.
I threw my back out the day before my wedding.
I stood up with my bride in front of the congregation with four tylenol, four ibuprophen, and one of those self-heating sticky heating pads on under my suit.
The honeymoon night and next couple days after that were interesting.