How I See Seven

I have a theory about why Seven was given to me. It helps that I have mad organizational skills. And the fact that I have the IQ level to be able to understand the medical terms and concepts that are thrown at me on a daily basis. But there are a great number of people that can do that just as well as I can. No, the important quality I believe I possess that leaves me best equipped to handle Seven is the way I see Seven. On paper, Seven looks terrible. There are all sorts of malformations and defects that paint the picture of a terribly abnormal child. I have the ability to read the charts and files to help care for him medically, but then I can set it aside. When I look at Seven I see Seven as Seven. The boy I know is sweet and peaceful. He is gentle and quiet, silly and tough. Seven has an unmatched charisma, even in comparison to Ocean (and that in itself is amazing!) The Seven I know melts hearts without action or words. He oozes a feeling of zen. I haven't met anyone that sees Seven quite the way I do (except for one--and I'm not telling who!) I can always see in other's eyes the little hesitation or sadness they feel when they speak of him in regards to his condition. Don't feel sorry for me or Seven. Feel envious. Because I can hear words like "brain damage" or "congenital malformation" and just file it in his binder. It doesn't affect how I see Seven. I'll wait and see. You see, I know that what goes on around me is medical "practice." Seven has never compared to anyone. He hasn't been written about or seen before. He certainly doesn't follow the crowd. He is as unpredictable and capricious as I am. He laughs in the face of a sodium level deemed to be "not compatible with life." I won't let an MRI tell me what my son is going to be like. HE will tell me what he is going to be like. And knowing Seven, it will be on his terms!