“In lots of places around Australia, there were the two main components of Agent Orange used as a herbicide and a pesticide. So there are pockets of us all around the country that were born with all different health challenges because of exposure”.
Priscilla Sutton’s journey with a limb difference began in Biloela, central Queensland.
“Basically, my ilio femoral artery was quite blocked, which I found out later in life was just with scar tissue… And because of that in utero being blocked, my leg did not fully develop… my foot was curling. So that was sort of the limb difference”.
Growing up required constant medical navigation, involving frequent trips on long-distance buses to see specialists. She recalls that she “had lots and lots of surgeries… had that ankle fusion when [she] was about ten”, alongside procedures to address a heart-and-lung condition.
Years later, while living and working in Tokyo, the daily physical strain escalated until walking became intensely painful. Describing that turning point at age twenty-four, she notes:
“Every step hurt… I was hitting that like absolute threshold of, I can’t live like this. And I think I was about twenty four and walking down the street and I thought, yeah, that’s it. I’ve got to do something about this”.
After returning to Australia and exploring options—including an assessment panel in Melbourne—she chose to move to Brisbane and electively amputate her leg at age twenty-six.
Finding an orthopedic surgeon who supported her choice without pushback was a great relief. She even humorously arranged to have her foot cremated, recalling how a lawyer on speakerphone responded with, “what, is she fucking nuts?”
Post-amputation life brought an immediate sense of physical freedom, alongside unexpected shifts in style and social interactions. Explaining the profound change, she shares:
“I felt so free, physically free, which was so wonderful after the first twenty-six years of pain and limitation… I still feel a sense of freedom compared to what I was born with, which I think is something you can’t buy. I mean, you can chop it off, but you can’t buy it”.
However, public reactions to her amputation varied widely, frequently swinging between awkwardness and strange expectations. When discussing how people sometimes treat amputees differently or make assumptions about a possible future sporting career, she notes:
“There’s this weird thing about when you chop a leg off, people love to say, oh, are you going to get one of those running legs? And it’s like… I am still the same lazy person, and I do not want to be an athlete. But thanks for the vote of confidence”.
Her later years presented fresh hurdles, including severe vascular issues, heart complications, and the growth of painful neuromas in her stump. Reviewing the grueling nature of corrective surgeries, she reflects:
“It has definitely been the hardest few years of my life… my dear stump decided to grow a whole bunch of neuromas… my pain was getting to ten out of ten and it was absolutely awful”.
Despite facing complex post-traumatic stress disorder and grueling recovery processes, she found strength through therapy, close friends, and her wife. Describing that vital personal support system, she emphasizes her wife:
“She is the most incredible human… she picked me up off the floor literally and figuratively many times. And, she’s just been my rock, so that’s amazing”.
The “Spare Parts” Exhibition
Channeling her creativity and lived experience, she eventually organized “Spare Parts,” an innovative public art exhibition featuring decorated and reimagined prosthetics collected from amputees across Australia. Reflecting on the project’s deep community impact, she notes:
“I just collected limbs from all over… sometimes there were limbs donated by families of amputees who had passed away… so it was really beautiful to be able to give parts of people’s loved ones a second chance at life”.
