ADVERTISER.COM.AU SATURDAY JANUARY 17 2015 WEEKEND EXTRA 57

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say I got a mosquito bite onmy foot, or sunburn. It wouldtake months to heal becausethe blood flow wasn’t right.”

Back in Adelaide she saw asurgeon who laid it on the line.The only real possibility wasamputation. She saw anotherdoctor, a vascular surgeon,and he said the same. Thatbegan a series of gruellinground of visits to specialists.

“They don’t just removelimbs; you have to go and sitthrough a board of medicalpeople who all have to agree itis the right thing to do,” shesays. “It’s not a matter of say-ing ‘can you cut my limb off?’They won’t do it. If they cansave a limb, they will save it.”

She saw a psychologist, arehabilitation specialist, an-other orthopedic surgeon anda pain specialist. On July 27,2011, three years after seeing adoctor about her ankle, her

lower limb was removed.Since then she has had 25surgeries, many of them re-lated to pain control. In Au-gust last year she had a secondamputation above the knee.

Her stump had been tooshort for a prosthetic and herpain problem was exacerbatedby a nerve in the stump. If shewanted to be able to walk,more of her leg had to go.

IT WAS an unimaginableordeal and she doesn’tknow how she got

through it. “The last ampu-tation was the worst for me,”she says. “I had less tears withthe last amputation but from apsychological point of view itwas quite difficult. And mypain management was all overthe place.”

She had children relying onher and giving up wasn’t anoption. Slowly, she is gettingher life back. In April last yearshe and her children movedfrom Adelaide to the GoldCoast where she is part of anational elite sports develop-ment program, training inkayaking and va’a – a Tahitianoutrigger canoe. Out in thewater she feels strong and inthe past month completed a15-second personal best, put-ting her on track for the Para-lympics in Rio.

“I feel like I’m equal toeveryone else, I feel strong,even though I am categorised

An ankle operation left Melissa Sullivan in the middle of a medical nightmare, writes PENELOPE DEBELLE.

Powering on through pain and heartbreak

I feel like I’m equal to

everyone else, I feel strong ...

when I’m in a boat I like

paddling past people who are

walking their dogs or whatever

because they don’t know

that I’ve only got one leg

VERSATILE: Melissa Sullivan with her children Madeleine and Kaleb in 2009, top; left, playing wheelchair basketball for Adelaide Thunder; and trying out for the Rio De Janeiro Paralympics.

“

the incorrect spot. And some-thing new had happened. In-stead of the post-surgical painshe was used to, this operationhad left her in agony. And herfoot, when it was revealed,looked odd. It was a purplishcolour and felt cold.

She continued to experi-ence constant and unusualpain and every step was pain-ful. Worse, she had no ideawhat was wrong or what to do.

She braved it out for a fewmonths but the pain gotworse. Finally, she visited alawyer and asked for help. Theprocess from then on was toestablish the damage that hadbeen done – and see whatcould be done to fix it.

Sullivan was dogged by badluck. The saga of the ankleand its future was overshad-owed by the world of pain shewas in. She was diagnosedwith three pain syndromes,one of which could have beentreated if it was known aboutin time. The first was a seriouscase of Complex RegionalPain Syndrome (CRPS), painthat sets in after a fracture.

Sullivan says she was at theextreme end. “Out of zero tohundred, I was at the 95 per-centile,” she says. “Nobodycould tell me what the prob-lem was.”

SHE also suffered deaf-ferentation, a nerve dis-order that translates

into hypersensitivity. A blockof ice on her skin, instead offeeling cold, would read as ex-treme pain, “like someoneshoving in a knife”.

And later, when her limbwas amputated, she sufferedphantom pain.

“My foot does all theseweird and wacky things andthe pain that the foot goesthrough, I feel it,” she says. “Ipaddle with a guy who had hislegs blown off in Afghanistan

and he complained one dayabout an itch and it lasted fiveminutes and he couldn’tscratch it! He had nothing atall. They don’t know whysome people suffer and somedon’t but I just happened toget all three.”

She went for months with-out treatment and was in awheelchair. Everything waspainful. At the same time shewas juggling a failing marriageand the care of two youngchildren, both with seriousmedical problems.

Her daughter, Madeleine,has kidney disease while sonKaleb has Asperger’s syn-drome and was fed through agastrostomy tube for the firstfew years of his life.

She sold her real estatebusiness and became a full-time carer. At one point shehad both children in hospitalwhile trying to fit in wheel-chair basketball.

At her lawyer’s direction,she flew to Melbourne to havea report done by an indepen-dent specialist to appraise theextent of the physical damageand see what could be done.

He told her he could tryand rebuild a foot and calf outof bones harvested from else-where in her body, and fromdonors. It was hours of sur-gery with a strong likelihoodof failure. For the first time,amputation was mentioned.

“There is going to come atime when you are going tohave to have the limb ampu-tated,” he told her. “It is not aviable foot. Toes are curlingover, your toenails are dying.”

She already knew her footwasn’t doing well but it washard to hear. She had watchedher skin grow translucent tothe point where she could seethrough it.

“You could see veins, it wasquite weird,” she says. “And

as a paracanoeist,” she says. “Iknow this sounds weird butwhen I’m in a boat I like pad-dling past people who arewalking their dogs or what-ever because they don’t knosthat I’ve only got one leg.

“They will look at the boatand they won’t know I have adisability.”

Under the care of Adelaidepain specialist, Dr Philip Cor-nish, she has overcome mostof the complications causedby her surgeries.

She has visible under herskin, sitting almost on top ofher sternum, a small, squaredevice called a neuromodula-tor that inhibits her body’sneuro transmitters. Apartfrom an occasional jolt ofCRPS pain through her non-existent foot, it has broughther pain under control.

Reaching a settlement latelast year with the orthopedicspecialist’s insurers hasbrought a measure of peace,and comfort. She has the se-curity of being able to providefor her family. And she nowhas a new leg. It’s software iscalled I Am Batman, namedby her son, and cost a cool$106,000. All amputeesshould be entitled to these,she says, but hers only becamepossible after the settlement.

At some point she wants topaddle the 6600km Mississip-pi, with her children and part-ner Fred Tanner, her formercoach. If she doesn’t make the2016 Paralympics, the Missis-sippi will be on.

Her next goal is to makethe Australian paracanoeingteam for the Milan world titlesthis year. She has won worldtitles under the AustralianOutrigging banner and is cur-rently the fastest woman inthe world in her category.

She isn’t bitter. She andTanner are about to start abusiness on the Gold Coastand she says she has becomemore empathetic. If the sur-geon walked through the doorof the Adelaide restaurantwhere we met, she says shewould speak to him.

“If he came through thedoor now and recognised meand came up and spoke to me,I would talk to him,” she says.

“He made a mistake. Un-fortunately he made three andhe changed my life, and mychildren’s lives as well.”