A Change of Clothes

     Sometimes it's the littlest things that create the biggest emotional upheaval.  Today I wept and wept because I can't do up my jeans.
      Not because they've gotten too tight (they're actually a bit loose because I've dropped a little weight), but simply because I can't.  My fingers cannot work the button or pull up the zipper.  They can't grasp a buttonhook or a zipper-pull, so even aids provide no aid.  I have become physically unable to do this simple, everyday task-- and the fact that is is a simple, everyday task, unimportant in the world's scheme of things and totally taken for granted, is why it it me like a ton of bricks.  It is why I cried.
      I also cried because this little loss is evidence of a greater loss: My left hand is losing strength and dexterity.  My left arm is getting weaker.  And just when I was getting so excited about being able to paint left-handed....
      Anyway, the run-until-tackled, power-of-positive-thinking part of me eventually surfaced -- and went shopping.  I may be faced with the challenges of ALS, but I am still a fashion fan.  I like to dress well.  I like to look as good as I can.  I want to keep that up as long as possible.
      So I guess I'm lucky that there are chic pull-on jeans these days, fashionable trousers and skirts with elastic waists (shut up, Clinton & Stacy),  over-the-head tops in luxe fabrics and beautiful styles and not a button in sight, attractive and fashionable shoes with low heels.  I'm lucky, too, that I can still be concerned about these things.  I hope I'm concerned about them for a long time to come.
      It's not shallowness.  It's self-esteem.  It's proof that, while I do have ALS, ALS does not have me.