
What happens when your prosthesis won’t come off?
One of the things I love most about our wonderful Movao community is that we can share what life is really like as a prosthesis wearer.
Our amputation stories may be completely different, but so many of our everyday experiences are surprisingly similar.
Sometimes I completely forget about things that have happened to me until someone else shares a story and the memory suddenly comes flooding back.
That happened recently when Movao member Steve, a below-knee amputee and probably our number one hiking enthusiast, posted about an incident on our global feed. It was far too good not to share with everyone.
Have you ever experienced that moment when your prosthesis simply will not come off?
Your mind immediately goes to the worst possible place.
What if it never comes off?
Of course, it is unlikely to be quite that dramatic, but when your prosthesis will not budge, it can feel genuinely frightening.
Now imagine it happening halfway up a mountain, miles away from your prosthetist, without the right tools and on a Friday afternoon.
Steve was enjoying a wonderful hike near Sustenpass in Switzerland with his wife.
They had reached a climbing area and stopped for a rest when Steve decided it would be a good time to remove his prosthesis and dry his sweaty residual limb, socks and liner before continuing.
As many of us know, this is sometimes necessary when walking in hot weather or taking part in physical activity. Keeping the residual limb and liner dry can help prevent chafing and socket sores, which is particularly important when hiking across uneven terrain.
Steve pressed the release button, but bizarrely, nothing happened.
The liner pin would not release, and his prosthesis was staying exactly where it was.
He spent around half an hour shaking his leg, jumping around and trying everything he could think of to free it.

Still nothing.
It would not come off.
At this point, there was nothing else Steve could think of, so he called his orthopaedic centre for advice.
It was Friday afternoon, which is never the ideal time for an urgent appointment, a mechanical failure or a prosthesis refusing to cooperate, especially when you are halfway up a mountain in the Swiss Alps.
Eventually, his prosthetist called him back, but unfortunately, there was no magical tip or trick that could help.
Steve did not have the tools needed to investigate or fix the problem himself, so his prosthetist began asking around to see whether there was anyone nearby who could help.
A prosthetist was found in Luzern, but Steve would need to arrive before 4pm to catch him before he finished work for the weekend.
Steve joked that it might have been manageable in a Porsche, but it was going to be slightly less manageable in a camper van after hiking back down a mountain.
Steve and his wife decided they had to give it a try. They packed up their climbing equipment and headed back down the mountain as quickly as they could.
When they arrived at the camper van, Steve decided to give it one final try.
Maybe, after all that walking and movement, it would work.
Luckily, this time it came off.
To say he was relieved would be an understatement.
Steve turned the prosthesis upside down and gave it a shake to see whether he could work out what had happened.
Out fell a tiny rock measuring around one millimetre.
That was the culprit.
That tiny piece of debris had caused all the panic, jumping, shaking, Friday-afternoon prosthetist hunting and the possibility of racing across Switzerland in a camper van.
Steve does not wear a suspension sleeve over the top of his prosthesis, and he has several personal reasons for this.
He explained that someone who wears a suspension sleeve may be less likely to experience this particular problem because it can help prevent small pieces of debris from entering the mechanism.
Steve wanted to share his story with our Movao members to raise awareness that something so small can cause a major problem, especially when you are outdoors and far away from support.
Where possible, it is always worth being prepared for all kinds of unexpected mishaps.
You might now need to add another possibility to your list: an emergency kit for a prosthesis stuck at the top of a mountain! 😉
Then I remembered: this has happened to me too
I was not halfway up a mountain and, thankfully, there was no tiny Swiss rock involved, but I have experienced that same feeling of panic.
On a couple of occasions, I simply could not remove my prosthesis.
I still do not know exactly what caused it.
Perhaps air had become trapped, or maybe my residual limb had swollen.
I was born with proximal femoral focal deficiency, also known as PFFD, and I do not usually experience major changes in the size of my residual limb. Even so, I found myself completely unable to remove my leg.
There was lots of pulling, wiggling, panicking and then even more pulling.
I have even needed someone else to pull it while I tried to wriggle my way free.
Eventually, after plenty of tugging, twisting and mild panic, it finally came off.
Looking back, it is quite comical, especially when you picture two people desperately wrestling with a prosthetic leg and trying to pull it free.
At the time, however, it is not funny at all.
You suddenly start wondering whether you are going to be stuck inside it forever.
Of course, it is never quite that bad, but it certainly is not the best situation to find yourself in.

That is why we want to hear from you.
The more we share these real-life situations within our community, the more people can learn about life with limb loss and limb difference. That includes the good, the bad and the ugly.
Has this happened to you?
Have you ever had that moment when your prosthesis would not budge and you simply could not get it off?
Did you discover what caused it?
Perhaps it was heat, swelling, sweat, trapped air, a problem with the suspension system or, like Steve, one unbelievably small and badly placed rock.
Please share your experience in the comments, including anything that helped you finally get free.
You never know when your story might help another member who is sitting somewhere pulling, wiggling and wondering whether their prosthesis has decided to stay on permanently.
