It is becoming evident that I have a broad spectrum of information that you, the reader, may need to be privy to when it comes to Fredrick. I could attempt to retrace our steps thus far, but that is a challenge I would rather not undertake. Perhaps we should start at the title of the blog.
Fredrick is a young man of various qualms and few convictions. He does not like titles, for reasons he has yet to divulge, he shudders at the thought of being called "Young Master Fredrick" by my Aunt, as well as "Mr. Gleason" and the like. Yet I have found that nothing disturbs him more than the simple "Sir." Although, like most things he is not fond of, he will allow it if it is uttered by his awe inspiring Murse Mr. Bananas. I continue to find myself puzzled as to what it is about our fearless gloved leader that has caused Fredrick to deem him worthy of such an honor, but any who meet him will agree, he is the epitome of awesome.
For those of you who have experienced Fredrick, you may recall his love of fact and precision, and his unwavering dedication to bluntness. He was quite straightforward with me the day I dared call him "Sir". He halted his progress while looking me in eye (eye contact from Fredrick is rarity) and said "Don't call me Sir." As he does not often act so demandingly, I took some offense initially.
Though I made a considerable effort to quickly forget the occurrence I found it lingering at the edge of my thoughts. It was the first concrete implication that Fredrick might allow me some subtle tools to get to know him better. He had expressed several times that he didn't care for titles but I wondered if this held any weight in his plight.
Let me lay out the facts for you... Fredrick is nineteen, but I haven't seen anything on TV aside from Nickelodeon, Cartoon Network and various Disney movies for more than two months. His interest in animals and their behaviors exceeds that of the late Crocodile Hunter, and his literary tastes are devoted mostly to fantasy. He eats roughly the same thing everyday although he has a smorgasbord of options at his fingertips. He despises using napkins and tissues and he enjoys displaying the evidence on his face and clothing that he has had chocolate or a dairy confection. Lastly, his interest in a wholesome game of 'Sorry' never fails.
 Days later as I pressed play on the dvd player to commence the special edition of Beauty and Beast for the 17th time this week, I realized rather suddenly that my ongoing presumption that Fredrick was reluctant to grow up was quite wrong. His career aspirations and intelligence paint a starkly different picture, one of a rapidly maturing individual. It is arguable that his autism could explain his preference for extreme repetition, but I beg to differ. He once said to me, "I'm not a rebellious person, it's just that when I'm told what to do it feels as though I'm being caged." It seemed to me that Fredrick may only have been exercising the most power he has over his current situation. What can he control in his present state? His day is a collection of scheduled therapies and medications, because of his conditions he is even limited as to which position he may lay in during his time in bed.
In that moment I felt a sense of relief in the clarity that he was sure of something that I until then hadn't been. He was yet un"caged" in one place; In his room, where he sturdily, day in and day out, holds court over the TV and his sometimes soporific meal choices. With a renewed sense of compassion, I settled down for another chorus of "Be our guest" and began to smile at the understanding that my being able to recite the dialogue of Beauty and the Beast from start to finish, or finding myself feeling faint at the prospect of hearing the Power Ranger's theme song even once more; is a small price to pay for the assurance that Fredrick has the final say in our tiny hospital room contained universe. No matter what happens to him out there in the wide open world of his afflictions, in here he is still calling his own shots; and as it stands, I intend to do all I can to uphold his flourishing in-room empire.