Written June 25, 2025
Hello Dear Readers,
Yesterday, a small but mighty victory took place in my household: I finally sewed a button back onto my shorts. Yes, the shorts that have been silently judging me from the mending pile for weeks. My original goal was to wear them to my blood draw appointment, but threading that needle turned into an Olympic-level event—and, spoiler alert, I did not win gold.
Part of the challenge? My left hand. It’s been on a bit of a go-slow strike since my stroke. While most of my mobility has returned (with a slow but steady comeback tour), my left hand still dances to its own rhythm—one that is less ballet and more interpretive chaos. I practice piano daily to retrain it, and while progress is real, threading a needle still feels like trying to put a shoelace through a keyhole. While blindfolded. On a moving train.
Oh, and let’s not forget my eyesight. Between the rebellious hand and less-than-stellar vision, sewing that button felt like performing surgery with oven mitts.
Despite it all, I managed to get the thread through, stab the shorts a few dozen times (mostly intentionally), and reattach the button. My backup pair of shorts had just emerged from the dryer at that moment, so I wore those instead. Still, I went back to my sewing mission post-appointment, and this time, I finished the job.
And let me just say: shout-out to my middle school home economics teacher. Without those long-forgotten lessons, I’d have had to look up a YouTube tutorial or ask my wife for help. Both totally valid options, but nothing beats a minor domestic triumph all on your own.
In the end, this wasn’t just about the button. It was about dexterity. Determination. Brain-hand coordination. This tiny, stubborn project turned out to be its own form of rehab—and it counts.
I’d been putting it off because, well, life. Doctor visits, lab work, and the glorious chaos of summer have been eating up my time. But yesterday, I did the thing. I fixed the shorts. I now officially have two wearable pairs for the season. The repaired button has held firm—so far, so good. Fingers crossed. Or in my case, sort-of-crossed.
Tomorrow brings my annual eye appointment, and I’ll be mowing the lawn beforehand (because nothing says “adulting” like trimming grass before checking your retinas). So yes, having an extra pair of shorts is not just fashion—it’s function.
Until next time, keep your threads tight and your victories celebrated—no matter how small they seem. Sometimes, sewing on a button is the big win of the week.