Artwork by Millie Saunders
All the questions below have been put to me during my years as an amputee, either in person, via a comment on my social media or by direct message.
Don’t worry about me being upset if a question seems offensive or in bad taste, I’m pretty thick skinned and have already consented that they can be as weird or (potentially) offensive as you like.
Please understand that these are all my own personal opinions and experiences, I cannot speak for every single amputee out there.
1.
How could people improve the design of your leg?
This is a tricky one to answer. In terms of function, the prosthesis that I have is an incredible machine. It has the ability to let me do a great number of things that wouldn’t have been available to amputees even ten years ago. The people building and designing these prosthetic limbs are very good at their jobs.
There are definitely things I wish it could do, but we are likely a few decades away from having fully integrated robotic limbs that perfectly mimic human ones.
I could probably think up a number of different answers to this question and they would likely change depending on my own personal situation at any given time. However, as of right now, I would love to see the production (and therefore purchasing) costs of these limbs come down.
Whenever we see amputees in the media, whether it be during the Paralympics or on a TV show, they tend to be sporting some top of the range prosthetic equipment.
The truth is that only a very small percentage of the global amputee population actually have access to advanced prosthetic limbs and that is due to a significant financial barrier. The cost associated with the development and production of these devices is astronomical and consequently, so is the cost of purchasing one.
I’m sorry that this doesn’t exactly answer the question asked, but I think it is one of the most needed changes in the way prosthetic limbs are designed.
That being said, I wouldn’t even begin to know how people would go about doing it. Fortunately, there are far more intelligent people than me working on the problem.
2.
On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate your pain?
That varies from day to day. Sometimes I put my leg on and the socket feels snug, almost (dare I say it) comfortable. Other days, it feels like a vice is crushing my stump with every step.
That are so many factors that can affect how painful walking is. Did I walk too far the previous day? Is it particularly hot outside? Do I have an injury of some kind? And of course, the worst culprit of stump pain, is there a pimple on my leg?
Issues with the comfort of the socket aside, there is also phantom pain to deal with. Some days it hardly affects me at all. It’s just this dull, nagging ache at the end of my stump. Always there, but easy enough to ignore. When it’s bad though, there ain’t no pain like it. There have been times when I’ve been wandering around the local supermarket, happily filling my shopping basket when out of nowhere, what feels like a bolt of lightning sent by Zeus himself shoots down my leg. It’s usually all I can do to keep myself from doubling over. I’m certain that my suddenly grimacing face has freaked out more than a couple of other shoppers over the years.
So to answer the question. At any given time, I’m on a steady 3 to 4. When the pain of wearing the prosthesis is at its worst, that goes up to 8/9 and when the god of lightning attacks, it jumps off the scale.
3.
Do you still have/use a wheelchair?
I do still have a wheelchair and though I prefer to use my crutches on days when my leg hurts too much to wear the prosthesis, there are still times when it has its uses.
For example, a few months ago I missed the last step coming down the stairs in my house and managed to bend my left foot (the real one) pretty far in the wrong direction. I couldn’t use it for a few days and trying to hop around on a prosthetic leg is a bit of a non starter. So, I ended up back in the chair for a while.
Even though I prefer not to use it, having it around just in case something like that happens gives me a lot of comfort.
4.
Have you ever tricked someone into thinking you have two legs before revealing your prosthesis in some shocking way?
It is surprisingly easy to make people think that I still have two legs. The thing is, that’s the natural assumption. If I’m out wearing long trousers, most people will think that I have a limp from an injury. That’s if they even notice I’m limping at all. “That person over there might be an amputee” doesn’t tend to be the first thought that pops into someones mind.
My most vivid memory of somebody realising I had one leg was years ago, at a bar. I had recently been given a new attachment for my prosthesis that allowed it to rotate. I was sitting at a table with some friends and for a laugh decided to twist my leg around and place my drink on the bottom of my shoe, letting it sit there like my own mini glass stand.
There was a shout from the table next to us. Someone in the group sitting there had seen me perform this incredible feat of flexibility. They were staring at us all, with an expression that seemed to be stuck somewhere between impressed and horrified. After a moment, I pulled my jeans back slightly to reveal the metal leg and they realised that I was not secretly a performer from the local circus.
It’s funny how clear that memory is in my head. I never actually spoke to the person but those entertaining few seconds have stuck we me for a long time.
5.
Is there a risk of your leg slipping off?
With the prosthesis I currently have, the risk of this happening is very small. My socket uses a two fold method to keep itself attached to my stump.
Firstly, there is the vacuum seal. I wear a silicon liner on my stump, which has a rubber seal around it. When I push this into the socket, all of the air is expelled through a small valve, creating a vacuum. The seal prevents more air from entering, which keeps the leg in place.
For most above knee amputees, this would be enough. However, because my amputation was particularly high, I have been left with a shorter stump than average (insert joke here). What this means is that if I lift my leg too high, or twist it in a particular angle, the seal breaks. This would make activities such as cycling incredibly difficult.
To compensate for this lack of length, the socket is also fitted with a pin lock system. A short metal rod sticks out from the end of the silicon liner and is held in place by a mechanism at the bottom of my socket.
Usually, the pin wouldn’t be an ideal system for me as the prosthesis I use is quite heavy, but with both of these methods working in tandem, I have a fully usable and secure prosthetic limb.
This wasn’t always the case. I went through a period of using a vacuum socket without a pin. As mentioned before, this did not mix well with cycling (which I do a lot). I would get a few hundred metres from home and the motion of spinning the pedals would cause my leg to work its way loose.
I grant you permission to imagine, and laugh at, the image of a panicking one legged man trying to safely stop his bike while his prosthesis lies in the middle of the road behind him.
If you have any burning questions of your own, drop them down in the comments and keep an eye out for the answers in future posts…
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