Buttons made me cry

It's amazing how something so small can make you feel completely helpless. The simple act of buttoning up my (brand new) crisp white dress shirt this morning proved too difficult of a task to perform. My fingers turned to immovable red sticks incapable of putting button through button-hole. My husband, being ever so observant for 6:00 a.m., realized my struggle and buttoned the shirt for me. I cried.

This is the first time over the course of my illness that I have been unable to button up a shirt. Other things have been difficult or impossible for me to do (open jars for instance), but dressing myself has not been a major issue. I am grateful for having a caring husband who saw my need and took care of it, but I am upset that I could not handle the task myself. It is demoralizing to realize that, had he left for work earlier, as he usually does, I would not have been able to manage.