Names may have been changed to protect those who are presumed to be innocent.
Volume I
Volume II
Volume III
Volume IV
In the most recent editions of Perry Tales, you've been introduced to the other main players in our little Pack.
This week we'll get back to the guy for which this series is named.
A sad fact about diabetic people on dialysis is that their bodies begin to fail rather quickly.
Typically at that point a person has about two years left to live.
They're far more prone to infections, and their bodies simply cannot fight them off anymore.
As much of a fighter as my friend is, it's obvious that he's beginning to succumb to his wounds.
His heart has lost function past 50% now, and his extremities are getting far less blood flow than they normally should.
Specialists have come through the dialysis clinic like they're harvesting the ripened crops, telling every third person that they need to have one or both legs removed to extend their life span.
Perry was one of those who was asked for permission to amputate.
And as you would expect of my personal hero, he told them to go straight to hell.
Perry goes a bit stir crazy after being cooped up in a single place for more than a few hours. He's always on the go. Taking his legs would be a Serious cramp on his preferred lifestyle.
So he came to me with a very odd request.
"Do you know anybody who carves peg-legs?"
Of course he could have a custom molded prosthetic that would hardly be noticeable as being a replacement.
He could have a performance carbon fiber 'recurve' leg that would let him run, or jump like he's not been able to in years. (that is, if he could breathe well enough to do so)
But none of that is his style.
He's had me draw up the rough plans for what he wants.
Two lengths of ash wood will be carved down into a separate tibia and fibula bone. At the kneecap will be a skull. Each eye socket will be inset with an LED, probably red, with a hazy glass "marble" (think of the glass chunks people put in flower planters or fishbowls)
The end will taper to a peg and covered in a small rubber point. (crutch end)
The entire thing will be heavily lacquered or shellacked.
And unless I have my artist friend in Australia make them, I'll be carving them myself.
(I'll post W.I.P. pics if/when the project becomes necessary.)
But for now Perry's legs remain intact, even though they're heavily infected, and have very little feeling in them anymore.
Fortunately he's got one more member of the pack helping to keep him afoot;
a fat black and tan chihuahua by the name of Rusty.
Rusty is Perry's little companion on the nights when he can barely breathe due to fluid buildup on his lungs.
If his breathing gets too ragged, Rusty will jump up and bark frantically to wake the other people in the house, and alert them to the situation.
Other times when the infection buildup in his legs gets so great that it begins manifesting itself on his skin, Rusty will lick it away. For a while Perry griped at Rusty for this, until he realized that it would actually keep him out of the hospital for a day or two more than without such ministrations.
I know this issue is far more of a "downer" than most of the previous Perry Tales,
so to make up for it I'll share one of the little blurbs that can't be made into it's own story.
For the longest time Perry had two tubes hanging out of his shoulder; One red, and one blue.
The red went directly to his heart, and the blue directly to his lungs.
He was constantly getting strange looks from kids and adults, since few people know what they are.
And when people had the courage to ask about them, he couldn't give them a straight answer.
"Those are my ripcords" he'd say, showing them off, his expression totally deadpan. "Blue for the primary, red for the secondary"
This always got a puzzled look from people and he'd explain further.
"See, when i get going too fast to stop myself I just pull the ripcord and a parachute pops out of my ass to slow me down."
He hardly ever told people exactly what they were for, preferring to leave them wondering if he was being serious.
I hope that next week I'll have a more upbeat story to share with you guys.
Volume I
Volume II
Volume III
Volume IV
In the most recent editions of Perry Tales, you've been introduced to the other main players in our little Pack.
This week we'll get back to the guy for which this series is named.
A sad fact about diabetic people on dialysis is that their bodies begin to fail rather quickly.
Typically at that point a person has about two years left to live.
They're far more prone to infections, and their bodies simply cannot fight them off anymore.
As much of a fighter as my friend is, it's obvious that he's beginning to succumb to his wounds.
His heart has lost function past 50% now, and his extremities are getting far less blood flow than they normally should.
Specialists have come through the dialysis clinic like they're harvesting the ripened crops, telling every third person that they need to have one or both legs removed to extend their life span.
Perry was one of those who was asked for permission to amputate.
And as you would expect of my personal hero, he told them to go straight to hell.
Perry goes a bit stir crazy after being cooped up in a single place for more than a few hours. He's always on the go. Taking his legs would be a Serious cramp on his preferred lifestyle.
So he came to me with a very odd request.
"Do you know anybody who carves peg-legs?"
Of course he could have a custom molded prosthetic that would hardly be noticeable as being a replacement.
He could have a performance carbon fiber 'recurve' leg that would let him run, or jump like he's not been able to in years. (that is, if he could breathe well enough to do so)
But none of that is his style.
He's had me draw up the rough plans for what he wants.
Two lengths of ash wood will be carved down into a separate tibia and fibula bone. At the kneecap will be a skull. Each eye socket will be inset with an LED, probably red, with a hazy glass "marble" (think of the glass chunks people put in flower planters or fishbowls)
The end will taper to a peg and covered in a small rubber point. (crutch end)
The entire thing will be heavily lacquered or shellacked.
And unless I have my artist friend in Australia make them, I'll be carving them myself.
(I'll post W.I.P. pics if/when the project becomes necessary.)
But for now Perry's legs remain intact, even though they're heavily infected, and have very little feeling in them anymore.
Fortunately he's got one more member of the pack helping to keep him afoot;
a fat black and tan chihuahua by the name of Rusty.
Rusty is Perry's little companion on the nights when he can barely breathe due to fluid buildup on his lungs.
If his breathing gets too ragged, Rusty will jump up and bark frantically to wake the other people in the house, and alert them to the situation.
Other times when the infection buildup in his legs gets so great that it begins manifesting itself on his skin, Rusty will lick it away. For a while Perry griped at Rusty for this, until he realized that it would actually keep him out of the hospital for a day or two more than without such ministrations.
I know this issue is far more of a "downer" than most of the previous Perry Tales,
so to make up for it I'll share one of the little blurbs that can't be made into it's own story.
For the longest time Perry had two tubes hanging out of his shoulder; One red, and one blue.
The red went directly to his heart, and the blue directly to his lungs.
He was constantly getting strange looks from kids and adults, since few people know what they are.
And when people had the courage to ask about them, he couldn't give them a straight answer.
"Those are my ripcords" he'd say, showing them off, his expression totally deadpan. "Blue for the primary, red for the secondary"
This always got a puzzled look from people and he'd explain further.
"See, when i get going too fast to stop myself I just pull the ripcord and a parachute pops out of my ass to slow me down."
He hardly ever told people exactly what they were for, preferring to leave them wondering if he was being serious.
I hope that next week I'll have a more upbeat story to share with you guys.
