Perry Anderson, A Warrior….

May 28, 2012 - Posted by Steve Dall How often in life, we hear people speak of taking so many different things for granted and the list of topics seems, as if put end to end, could span coast to coast. In particular, think of how many times you use your legs in a given day. How about how many times various body parts you move in a given hour. How many times in a short ten minute period you use your hands. I must have moved many of them a hundred times just now typing these first few sentences. On a personal note, aside from every day routines which require the use of my hands, as a fisherman, my hands are my “everything”. Now imagine what it would be like to be enjoying yourself on a simple diving expedition with friends on a routine paradise day in South Florida and in the blink of the eye, be run over by a boat and have to fight just not for the use of your hands and legs, but for your life. That is exactly what happened to a friend of mine, Perry Anderson, on the last day of September in 2011. Let me first by saying that Perry is truly a great man, a true friend and a great family man. Many people can say that Perry’s free spirit, positive outlook and never-ending will to help others has made an impact on their lives and combined with what I often refer to “his warrior spirit”, I truly believe his road to recovery is nothing short of remarkable. Last September 30th, Perry and his friends went to dive for lobsters, “bugs” as we call them here in the Sunshine State. The Atlantic was particularly calm that morning, perfect for taking the kayak out loaded with dive gear and some dive flags. They paddled out roughly 1/3 of a mile off the beach and after a few dives and a few bugs later they were ready to call it a day, so Perry decided it was time to surface for the last time. He rose to about 10 feet to the surface, took a big 360 degree look around and started to the top. Within a foot of the surface, he felt it. Thump. Then pain. Then confusion. In the blink of an eye, he went from a final ascension to being spun into a roll, losing his orientation and began to sink in a sea of bubbles and prop wash. Once he regained his bearings, he tried to kick to the top, but realized at that point he had only one flipper and for some reason his leg didn’t feel right. He then reached for his weight belt and realized he could not use his right hand. Perry finally surfaced and took a quick look at his hand. At first glance, he thought that his dive glove was slipping off as it was dangling from his hand, but quickly realized that it was not his glove that was dangling, but what was left of his right hand. He quickly looked around and noticed a white boat with a black outboard engine; my guess is that it was a Mercury outboard, speeding off from the scene. He then had to ask himself something he never thought he would. “Did I just get hit by a boat? Did I get bit by a shark? Did Neptune just pierce me with his trident?” His buddy surfaced and asked if that boat had hit him and swam over because Perry couldn’t move let alone swim and he was really struggling to stay afloat. His other buddy was still on the kayak some 100 feet away from them and while he saw the boat speed by them, he didn’t realize yet that it hit Perry. Perry feared that the reality of what just happened combined with the defined red cloud that was now forming in the water around them would put all 3 of them in to shock. Blood mixed with salt water is not pretty. Nothing pretty about it at all. His friends now understood that something horrible just happened as they bobbed in a defined circle of red. They thought quickly with Perry and grabbed a lobster noose and put it on his upper arm to use as a tourniquet to seal off the flowing blood from his wrist and forearm. They used a whistle frantically, they screamed for help and waved their arms and for what seemed like hours, however, not a soul could hear them. That can bring fear in to one’s soul. Perry still says that he can distinctly remember staring up at the sky wondering if this was a dream and when the alarm clock would wake him. They continued to signal for help, but they had a big problem. They were 1/3 of a mile offshore, Perry with barely a hand to swim with, heavy dive gear, Perry’s torso was severely limited in mobility and they were 586 yards from shore…..nearly 6 football fields. How are we going to get back in they asked themselves? The guys helped him crawl on to the kayak and Perry laid across the front half of their makeshift lifeboat while they paddled for shore. For those not familiar with the stability of a kayak, this was essentially a small 1 person canoe, not designed for two people which made their efforts in paddling them to shore almost worthless. I can only imagine what they had to be thinking as the blue and white kayak was taking on a distinct pool of red water and with their friend lying in front of him. Perry then felt both the sting of the saltwater on his wounds and something flapping around on his back and hip and it dawned on him that it was skin hanging from nearly being torn in half by a boat prop. Are my intestines hanging out? Are we dragging my organs alongside the kayak? Are sharks around us? Perry understandably continued to question the situation at hand. Nearing shore, they frantically attempted to flag down a woman on shore by waving the kayak paddle in the air and thankfully she saw them. She acknowledged seeing them by quickly waving her arms in an “X” motion above her head and shouted for her husband’s attention. Her husband, whom Perry now knows as only “Ross”, hopped in a kayak and paddled as if he was in a race making it to them quickly. In an instant, Ross tied off a rope to the kayak so that he could tow Perry back to shore. Once ashore, people came from everywhere it seemed and the world was getting really fuzzy. Hazy. Perry can remember people begging him to stay awake and not close his eyes. By this time 911 had been called by a bystander and shortly after they came to shore, EMS arrived. More people gathered and not being one for crowds, Perry can remember asking myself, “How bad is this? Why are there so many people here?” The ambulance came to the beach and he remembered them putting him on a straight board and releasing the tourniquet and it got really messy. What he lost in blood, he gained in sand pouring into the multiple lacerations on his body. Still fuzzy. Still hazy. Can’t feel much. Everything is getting numb. I am getting cold. Before he could process what was happening, he was in the ambulance and minutes later he was at the ER by 3:00 pm. He glanced over and there was his girlfriend Liz and that comforted him more than any words can say. He has known her a long time and loves her dearly, but the pain he had laying there couldn’t compare to the pain he felt when he looked in her eyes and saw fear. You never want to experience seeing that fear in your loved one’s eyes, trust me. In the trauma unit, they write on your room window the details of why you are there and they wrote Perry’s age, gender and “partial arm amputation”. “Amputation? Like, no more hand? Is this really that serious? I may lose my damn hand or arm? Or both?” That sent shockwaves through everyone who saw it. It was as clear as the Las Vegas lights at midnight, but everyone went about their business as if it didn’t exist. This was serious and Perry would be having surgery on his right arm later that night to attempt to connect the main veins and arteries to his hand. If they could do this, blood could flow to his hand and they could save it. If not, that message on his trauma room window would be reality. Perry sat in the trauma area with Liz, her father, his buddies and heroes, German and Josh for hours and later that evening, he went in for my first of four surgeries now and it was a success. His hand would be saved, but now they needed to focus on reattaching 17 tendons that were severed and install the metal bar in my arm to stabilize my broken arm. Success. I say that word, “success”, because despite a shattered pelvis, broken back, broken arm, large lacerations on his forearm, triceps, bicep, shoulder and back, severed nerves, tendons, veins and arteries and ultimately reattaching his right hand, his is still here. Still here to love those that are close to him and he thanks each and every one of them for the amazing amount of support you have shown him in his recovery. That was 8 months ago, 4 surgeries and countless hours of rehab and recovery. The road continues to be long, he can’t deny that. Perry has accepted that for a while, life will be a little different to say the least. He will continue to have months, if not years of rehab and physical therapy ahead of him. For quite some time, he couldn’t drive. He had a wheelchair to get around. He pecked at the keyboard with his non-writing hand. He couldn’t cut his own food. He could barely use the restroom unassisted. But you know what? Note that I said all that in past tense. This guy is a warrior. Yes, a warrior. Some guy Webster tells us that a warrior is the following: war•ri•or /ˈwôrēər/ Noun. A brave or experienced soldier or fighter. Brave. Check. Fighter. Check. This guy just won’t give up and has fought an amazing recovery battle. His doctor is amazed just as all of us that are close to him. What he is NOT, is sorry for himself. In his mind, it happened and he cannot change that. He CAN change how he heals and will do everything in his power to successfully recover from this. He wants to get back to “life” as quickly as he can, because in his eyes, his is still “here” and that is why he continues to challenge himself with getting back to his normal life as fast as he can. A life on and with the sea. Everyone who spends their days on the water either professionally or as much as they can in their leisure, knows what I mean. The water gets in your soul and never leaves. You need it. That is evident with Perry who has spent his life probably more so barefooted and in swim trunks than most people. Be it swimming, surfing, kite-boarding, fishing, kayaking, you name it, if it involves water, this guy is on the scene. I bet you he has rubber ducky races in the bath tub. So, on this Memorial Day weekend, Liz and Perry came to Naples to visit with my wife Emily and I and we had nothing short of a blast. The scars are evident and a frightening reminder of that day some 8 months ago. Perry’s hand has limited mobility, but again, he is a warrior. Instead of sitting in our pool all day, he wanted to fish this weekend. With barely a hand. Not kidding. His way of saying, I need to get back to what I do. But he never said anything about his hand. We just made the arrangements, changed over some reel handles so he could reel the handle easier and off we went before the sun rose Saturday morning. He needed no help that day. No help with knots. No help with fish. He handled his own bait. The amazing thing is that he never pointed out how he was doing. It may have taken him a bit longer, but he just went about his therapeutic business and enjoyed his day. To make sure he was ok, I asked how he was doing and he just said something about how he thought there would be redfish in this area. I know he knew what I was referring to, but that warrior spirit politely told me shut up and get him on some fish. He certainly was not going to let what happened to him, keep him from jumping a tarpon, reeling in those jacks, ladyfish, trout, snook and reds. He was flawless in his execution and made casts that nearly half the people in my boat can’t make and fought fish like a seasoned pro. Fighter. Warrior. Don’t ever take this wonderful thing we call “life” for granted. Life can change in the blink of an eye and you may never see it coming……warrior or not. I need a favor from my fellow sportsman and woman. My friend Perry has far too much pride to ask for help, so I am doing it for him. I realize times are tough, trust me, I do, but think about if you had to stop working for nearly a year, have 4 surgeries, go to rehab 6 days a week and STILL have to pay your bills. You may not realize how much $5 or $10 can make for someone who has no means to make a living, so I am asking you for help. We have set up a fundraising website for my friend Perry and his story and photos of his recovery can be seen on this website. There is also a link to a secure donation page through PayPal that allows everyone to contribute to someone who truly deserves it. If you care to donate anything other than monetary donations, please contact me at steve@poseidonschoice.com. Will you please help me and my fellow sportsman and steward of the sea? We thank you in advance! www.helpingourfriendperry.wordpress.com/about/