A fish story that is far-reaching, not far-fetched

By Kyra Newman

On a warm afternoon this past fall, 19-year-old Cameran Pickett rolled his wheelchair to the edge of a quiet fishing pond, slipped his forearm into a custom brace and cast a line farther than he ever expected he could again. The arc of that cast - powered by his left arm and much determination - marked far more than a return to a hobby.

For Pickett, who sustained a severe spinal cord injury in a car accident during his junior year of high school, it was the moment he felt something he hadn't felt since before the 2024 accident: freedom.

"It brought me back to before everything happened," the Caroline County native said. "It gave me the big realization that I can still do the things I want to do. Just because something has to be modified doesn't mean it's impossible."

That realization took shape thanks to a team of occupational therapy students in Virginia Commonwealth University's College of Health Professions. They had spent their recent summer designing adaptive fishing equipment specifically for Pickett - guided by the recommendation of his former school OT, Olivia Fields, and the fierce advocacy of his family: parents Tiffany and Timothy, and brothers Gavin and Winston.

Together, they created a pathway back to the outdoor lifestyle that Pickett never thought he'd enjoy again.

A life changed in an instant

In April 2024, Pickett was driving to work at Food Lion. During his second week of employment and just a few minutes from home, Pickett overcorrected and hit a tree. After a helicopter transfer to VCU Medical Center, he underwent emergency surgery to relieve swelling in his spinal cord.

Doctors diagnosed him with an incomplete C6-C7 spinal cord injury, and he shattered his C6 vertebra. Pickett immediately lost all motor function and sensation below his shoulders.

But slowly, movement returned: first his arms, then some function in his left hand, then sensation all the way to his toes. He pushed through months of outpatient therapy, school adaptations and an intensive rehabilitation stint at Baltimore's Kennedy Krieger Institute, where he logged nearly 40 hours of physical and occupational therapies in just two weeks.

"Every small gain is huge," Tiffany Pickett said. "We've had the attitude from Day One: This isn't going to stop us. You keep going. You figure out a new way."

One thing her son couldn't figure out a new way to do, at least not on his own, was fish.

Why fishing mattered

Before the accident, Pickett spent much of his summers outdoors, at the farm of his extended family's private pond, where he would catch bass, bluegill or "whatever would bite." Beyond a pastime, fishing was part of him. After a full year went by without casting a line, the loss felt heavy.

"When they helped me fish again … it made me really happy," Pickett said. "It lifted a pressure off me I didn't know I had."

Fields noticed it, too. She worked with Pickett during his senior year in high school and saw how much of his identity had shifted. A VCU OT alum, Fields learned from a former professor that the program was seeking community members to partner with for adaptive design projects, and she knew Pickett would be a perfect fit.

"He lost so much - his plans, parts of his independence," Fields said. "Fishing was something that brought him joy before the accident. Giving him that back felt really important."

Tiffany Pickett didn't hesitate at the opportunity for her son.

"I told him, 'You don't have an option. You're doing this,'" she said. "I knew what it would mean to him if they could make it work."

Designing independence

This past summer, Pickett and his mom made multiple trips to Richmond to meet with the VCU OT students. As part of the Occupational Synthesis and Adaptations course, students kick-start their second year with an assignment to solve unique occupational challenges and give clients the ability to participate in activities that make their lives meaningful.

Working in two teams, the students took measurements, analyzed how Pickett could move, tested ideas and even met the family halfway at Bass Pro Shops in Ashland so Pickett could try out a prototype over a weekend.

The design of the equipment includes three key adaptations: a custom forearm sleeve, a casting button modification and a wheelchair-mounted rod holder. (College of Health Professions)

The final design included three key adaptations:

• Custom forearm sleeve: This rigid but comfortable brace slides onto Pickett's left forearm and is secured by straps. A specially carved channel holds the fishing rod, creating a stable connection point that doesn't require grip strength.
• Casting button modification: A large button allows Pickett to press with his right hand, on his weaker side, to release the line. He can then use his torso and left arm to swing-cast.
• Wheelchair-mounted rod holder: A sturdy bracket attaches to his wheelchair, allowing him to set the pole down securely while repositioning or waiting for a bite.

"They were open-minded, determined and creative," Pickett said. "They tried things I never would've thought of. When something didn't work, they'd change it."

Back at the water's edge

On his first trip back to the water, Pickett wasn't there to catch fish, but just to see if the system would work. He experimented with swing angles, pressure on the button and his balance with the brace. It clicked almost immediately.

"I wasn't sure I'd be able to cast at all," he said. "But once I did it, I was like, 'Yeah. This works.'"

Of his new fishing equipment, Cameran Pickett said, "It's freedom." (College of Health Professions)

For Tiffany Pickett, watching her son fish again was emotional.

"It makes me happy to see him doing something he loved before the accident," she said. "It was worth every trip. Every appointment. Everything."

Today, Pickett continues strengthening his arms, exploring career options with Virginia's Department for Aging and Rehabilitative Services and preparing for another round of intensive therapy at Kennedy Krieger. He hopes to drive again one day. And he hopes to keep adapting the world to meet him where he is.

Since he received the new fishing equipment, Pickett's family has tried several ponds and reservoirs. No big catches yet, but plenty of nibbles - and even more confidence.

"It's freedom," Pickett said. "It shows me other things I want to do are possible, too."

This story was originally published on the College of Health Professions website.