[matchstix]

Ok, first post. I didn't see anything about this on here previously, so hopefully not a repost!

Link to the original article

The Reptile Report - It all started on November 11th, 2013. When he woke up that morning, Greg Graziani had no idea that 24 hours later, his life would be changed forever.

Greg Graziani, reptile breeder and star of TV’s Python Hunters, has been chasing and catching reptiles in the Everglades of Florida since 1976, when at the age of seven, he caught his first snake. Snakes, frogs, turtles, lizards or alligators—if it slithered, hopped, swam or walked, Greg would catch it. As an adult, Greg has been keeping and breeding reptiles for decades. He works directly with Florida’s Fish & Wildlife and has been legally capturing and keeping crocodilians for ten years. He is licensed by the state of Florida to keep every species of exotic reptile except Komodo dragons. He has one of the largest collections of albino alligators in the world. For the last half of 2013, Greg has worked as an agent for Chris Lusby, a local trapper licensed to deal with nuisance alligators found on private and public properties. Needless to say, Greg is no amateur when it comes to dealing with alligators.

Monday afternoon, the 11th of November, Greg was responding to a call about nuisance alligator that needed to be captured and taken away. Chris was out of town that day, so Greg was handling the call.

The call was from a man who said he had a six-to-seven foot gator on his property. Greg’s twelve year old son, Lane, had just gotten out of school and was able to go with him on the hunt. Together, they found and caught a three-and-a-half foot monster gator.

“Naw, that ain’t it,” the homeowner insisted. “There must be another one out there. The one I saw was big and missing its right front leg.”

Lane turned the alligator in his arms and showed the man its missing right front leg.

That was a pretty typical call for gator hunters. The public almost always doubles the size or extremely underestimates the size of the animal they want taken away.

A second call came in later that night and Greg went out by himself. This run was made after dark, out on a marina. Greg had to walk out across a floating dock to find and capture an alligator that needed no exaggeration. She was a good seven-and-a-half feet, with part of her tail missing. Had her tail been intact, she would have measured over eight feet in length. Her whole back end was riddled with deep, long-healed scars, and Greg figured she must have had a bad encounter with the blades of a boat’s motor in her younger years.

The old scars did not hinder her ability to fight in any way, and Greg had quite a wrestling match on his hands to capture her and get her trussed up for safe transport. On his own, in the dark, on a floating dock, he caught and subdued her and readied her to be moved into the back of his pick-up truck.

Greg had transport boxes, but none big enough for a gator of that size. She would ride in the bed of his truck with special tie-downs to keep her immobile and safe. Before taping her mouth shut, Greg fed a length of flat, nylon strap into her mouth and made it into a loop above her snout. With her mouth taped shut, the strap and loop would be trapped in place by her teeth. This loop was not a handle and was never intended to be used to lift or move the animal. Its sole purpose was to be an anchor for tie-down ropes in the bed of the truck. The nylon lines would be attached to the loop on each side of her face and ratcheted down tight. This kept her head immobile, unable to thrash and unable to jump out of the bed of the truck while traveling down the road.

By this time, it was late at night. Greg decided to drive her back to his house and keep her there for the night, then move her to Chris’s the next day. When he got home, he transferred her from the truck to a secure horse trailer. The trailer would allow her a little room to move, but the tape stayed around her mouth. However, she didn’t seem much interested in moving by this time. She was exhausted and lethargic. She gave Greg no trouble at all in the transfer from truck to trailer—so little trouble that Greg wondered if she would survive the night.

He prepped a load of ice to preserve the body, just in case she didn’t make it. Then washed up and went to bed.

Early the next morning, with his wife making breakfast and the kids getting ready for school, Greg and his son, Lane, got ready to transfer the gator back into the truck for the trip to the alligator farm. Greg backed the truck up to the mouth of the trailer and then jumped into the trailer. And there, he made his first critical mistake of the day.

Greg went into that trailer thinking he was dealing with the same beat-up, exhausted alligator he’d been wrestling with the night before. She was docile and lethargic. He heard the warning hisses coming from the frightened animal. He nimbly dodged the large, flailing tail before catching it to spin her around to face the truck bed. She’d gone from too tired to fight to a fully rested and recharged animal in fear for her life. But her warnings never registered.

Once he’d gotten her spun around so her head faced the opened tailgate of the truck, Greg stood over her and evaluated the short gap she had to traverse. It was just a couple of feet up and over. One short, quick move. Greg’s eyes went to the loop on the top of her head. It would be so much easier to just grab that “handle” and lift her over the short distance.

Greg had seen videos of people getting caught in top jaw ropes they’d been holding onto and always wondered why they wrapped the rope around their arm. He evaluated the loop. If she started to get feisty while his hand was on it, he could just let go of it. Simple enough.

His second critical error had been set into motion.

Using his strong, right hand, Greg got a good hold on the loop and started to lift. The gator squirmed. Greg had one last chance to correct his errors. He could have released the loop of rope and pinned the gator’s head down with the flat of his palm. That, he realized in hindsight. At the time, he thought she was too tired; she wouldn’t have much fight in her, surely. He grasped the loop in his right fist and pressed her head down with his knuckles to hold her still.

She rolled.

A breath, a heartbeat, an instant. Everything changed. The strap that was supposed to help him, that he was supposed to be able to let go of, became a death trap. It snapped tight around his fingers, creating a figure-eight that he could not get free of. He felt and heard a bone in the back of his hand snap halfway through the roll.

She continued to roll.

In a slow-motion shock, Greg watched and heard the two bones of his forearm break. The next thing he saw was the knuckles of his right hand pressed up against the crease of his elbow. Bones jutted from the skin.

There was no time to panic. If she rolled again, she would rip his hand entirely off. The bones were already snapped and the only thing holding it together was a little skin, muscle and tendon.

“Lane,” he said to his son,” My arm is broken and I can’t get it out. I need you to cut the rope.”

Twelve year old Lane nodded and moved to his dad’s side. Lane dug into Greg’s pocket for the knife that was always there. With steady hands, he freed the blade and sawed at the strap that held his dad’s arm.

The strap cut free and the alligator slipped to the ground.

“Now, go get your mom,” Greg instructed him.

His hand was twisted around 360 degrees and it was sheet white. He had to twist his own hand back to unkink the blood vessels and restore flow.

“Mom!” Lane hollered as he ran into the house. “The alligator broke Dad’s arm in half!”

Greg’s wife, Jacki, a full time nurse (LPN), came out and stared with horror. “I don’t know what to do,” she said in a quiet, shaken voice.

“Call 911,” Greg said. “You won’t be able to move me with it this bad.”

She did so. Then they called Chris to come and pick up the animal. Greg didn’t figure the paramedics would want to work around a wandering, angry, wild alligator, taped or not.

It took 45 minutes for the ambulance to reach Greg’s isolated property. In the meantime, Jacki created a makeshift sling from a towel and immobilized the arm against his chest.

Once the paramedics got him stabilized, they discussed where to transport him. The three local hospitals they serviced were all small-town facilities ill-equipped to deal with such severe trauma. “Take me to the closest one,” Greg instructed.

“But they’re the least able to deal with this,” paramedics argued.

Greg might have shrugged, had he been able. “None of them can handle this, so anywhere we go they’re going to have to transport me to a bigger hospital. Let’s just go to the closest and get that process started sooner.”

“The doctors are going to freak out.”

“That’s ok. Blame it all on me,” Greg insisted. Being the patient, the ambulance crew had no choice but to take him where he wished to go, and so they went.

The doctors did freak out. But Greg stayed calm and had his family do research to find the best trauma center and surgeons in the state. He didn’t want to get stuck with whatever doctor was on call at some random hospital chosen by a frazzled local ER staff. It took some time, but Greg settled on a specific hospital in Orlando. The local hospital staff were not used to a patient taking charge of their own treatment, but in the end, Greg’s insistence on doing it his own way may have saved his arm.

That same day, Greg got wind that a local news station was already prepping a story on the “attack.” He called the station to give them his statement and made it perfectly clear that this was an accident and in no way an attack. “An ‘attack’ is offensive and done only when an animal thinks you are food, or thinks you are threatening it or it’s young,” Greg said. “This animal didn’t attack me; it was just trying to get away from me, which is entirely understandable. I didn’t get bitten and it was my own stupid mistakes that led to the accident.”

The news story ran and was surprisingly unsensational, using the facts as Greg had explained them.

The accident occurred at 7:00am on the 12th of November. Greg didn’t reach the Orlando hospital until 4:00pm. His surgery was scheduled for the next day.

During surgery, a condition called “compartment syndrome” kicked in. This is when swelling occurs beneath the fascia tissue of the arm or leg. The fascia cannot stretch, so swelling behind it will cause intense pressure and cut off blood supply to the muscles and tissue beyond. Doctors later explained that if the surgery had been done the same day as the accident, the compartment syndrome would have occurred after the incision had been closed and stitched up. Instead, the surgeons recognized the situation and dealt with it immediately. Had the surgery been done any earlier, he might have lost his hand.

When Greg woke, he was dismayed to find not only the long incision needed to bolt his bones back together, but a complete fasciotomy from wrist to elbow that stretched four inches across at its widest point. But he was grateful, at least, that the wound was clean. There was no need to repeatedly strip out dying tissue as in the case of a venomous snake bite. Doctors covered the wound with a material called Integra that worked like “plastic skin” to protect the arm until it could be closed.

Three weeks and two more surgeries later, Greg’s arm was stitched closed without the need for a skin graft.

Greg will need 12-18 months to fully heal. At this time, he cannot use his thumb at all due to nerve damage. Future surgeries may be required, but doctors are optimistic that he’ll ultimately have full use of his arm and hand.

Greg does not see this event in his life as a triumph or proof of his manhood. He won’t consider his scars to be badges of honor. “They’re embarrassing,” he said. He doesn’t want to brag about what happened. But he does want others to be able to learn from his mistakes.

The first lesson is to never, ever assume what a wild animal’s temperament or physical abilities will be. No matter how tired they must be, how injured they appear, or how docile they were in the past, always be ready for an animal at full fighting capacity and willing to do so.

The second lesson is to never, ever take a shortcut on safety procedures. “I thought I could move fast enough to get away. I was wrong. Action is always faster than Reaction.”

Greg has faced trauma in the past, but this was the most deeply traumatic thing that he’s been fully conscious throughout. This was the only time he’s ever experienced the depression and post-traumatic stress symptoms that often follow such an event. He struggled to understand why his entire body was so deeply weakened by what seemed to be “just an arm injury.” He felt useless and adrift.

Fortunately, he is not just strong of body, but strong of spirit as well, and the depression did not last long. He’s still struggling with the aftermath of the accident, both physically and financially. But he is able to focus on what he’s grateful for.

Twelve-year old Lane’s courage and quick reaction literally saved Greg’s hand. Jacki was able to get past her own fears and get him stabilized. Even after all this, she never once questioned Greg’s love for working with dangerous animals or asked him to stop. And throughout the trials of that frightening morning, Greg’s daughter, Lexi, was the calmest of all, following every instruction given her to the letter, helping to keep her dad hydrated and guiding the ambulance driver up to the isolated house. Together, wife and kids took over the enormous task of caring for Greg’s numerous animals. How could any man stay depressed with so much courageous love and support?

What does the future hold for Greg Graziani? He will need to slim down his collection of animals to match his current abilities to care for them, but he has no intention of changing the direction of his life. These animals are his passion and he will continue to work with them, both in captivity and in the wild.

“This is what I do.”

[Photoplay]

Hey great story, info and pictures.
Greg seens like one calm altogether type person.

[CrunchyCripple]

That's a rope accident - not an alligator accident(technically). I thought the wound looked too "clean".

He wasn't death rolled - that's when they have the prey in their jaws and roll to rip off a chunk.

Can you imagine watching your arm get twisted and rolled up to your elbow?! Yikes!

[Shakey]

Not for me.

[vagabond]

Great post!

[murofhsirgo]

i make it a point to not fuck with alligators

[Oswald2001]

Originally Posted by murofhsirgo ↗

i make it a point to not fuck with alligators

No doubt.

They are essentially dinosaurs and not known for having a playful demeanor.

[Kelseecat65]

ouch ouch ouch
That is nasty to look at/think about!

[kellyhound]

never mess with wild animals

[mintycbo]

Seeing that is ALL that happens? I'm less frightened by them... As long as it isn't the head and you're not in water? not bad.
Small risk I could deal with.. I'd mess with some gators.

Unfortunately there will be no Darwin Award given to me from Documenting Reality anytime soon..
As I live in Pennsylvania.. Far north of Florida.. No gators here..
Worst we have? bears... snakes, spiders, deer. skunks..etc.
With the exception of the Bears? Pretty timid things..