May Sucks

The month of May has this great reputation for flowers and being the start of spring and all, but I see through all that crap. I really despise May. May has been unkind to me for my entire adult life. (It may have always been that way, but I didn’t start to pay attention until my early 20s.)

So, what’s happened to sour me on this month of clear blue sky, temperate weather, and brand new greenery? Past Mays have been the source of personal illnesses, car accidents, living room flooding, broken hearts, and deaths in the family, to name a few.

Want to hear my problem with this May? My grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. The bad news? It’s exceedingly rare and nasty. He lives in Oak Ridge, and the doctors think this was caused by his exposure to all the weird things they have out there because he worked in the weapons plants. The good news? It’s only in his leg so the prognosis is good that they can get rid of it. Only thing is, the whole leg has to go.

Amputation is such an ugly word. I went to visit him the night before the surgery. It was mostly cheerful small talk about my job and my new house. As I was getting ready to leave, he told me to have a good day the next day. Fortunately, I managed to suppress my usual response when someone says something like that to me. Telling him to do the same just didn’t seem appropriate somehow. How do you respond to something like that? “I hope it doesn’t hurt too much” just didn’t seem appropriate. After an awkward pause I ended with a thanks and an invitation for him to visit my new house after I move in.

Bring on June.