Why not you? Don Elgin on disability

I’ve been sitting here tonight, listening back to the raw files from one of the very first interviews I recorded for The Limb Shift. It’s a strange feeling, editing these conversations just a few months later.

I remember being in the audience when I first saw Don Elgin speak at a conference in Kellyville, Western Sydney; I was absolutely blown away by his story then, but hearing it again through the edit, I’m picking up on the smaller, quieter moments of grit that make him such a specialist in this space.

Don’s story starts differently than many of those who lose a limb to a sudden accident; he was born with a limb difference, his below-knee left leg having not formed properly. Like many born with congenital differences, his childhood was a marathon of surgical interventions to prepare his body for a prosthetic—including open-heart surgery at age three and procedures to “build” a thumb. He describes the reality of growing up in and out of wards with a characteristic bluntness: “I was three days old when my dad drove me to the Royal Children’s Hospital”.

His reflections on his “rock bottom” at age eleven are particularly heavy to listen to. He describes a time when he was “dead set, suicidal” because he didn’t have the coping mechanisms to deal with the bullying. The way he tells the story of his father walking in on him is a masterclass in the “tough love” that shaped him:

“My dad walked in. He saw me crying. One day he said, ‘mate, what’s up? Why are you sulking?’ I said, ‘it’s not fair, dad, why did it have to be me that had one leg and and why not my brother or one of my sisters?’ … My dad was awesome. He gave me probably three pieces of advice at that point. He goes, ‘mate, why not you? It’s only a bit of your leg. You can deal with it. You’ve got a good attitude'”.

Don talks about how he spent that night “painting a picture” in his head, imagining if he had lost both legs, his arms, or even his sight. By reframing it, he decided that “all I was doing was reframing the situation… all of a sudden, this thing that was bloody torturing me… was now my greatest asset because I thought, this is nothing”.

It makes me think back to his birth in 1975, and that fierce Australian spirit his mother showed when the hospital matron suggested she didn’t have to take him home because of his limb difference. Her response—”Bullshit. That’s my boy. He’s coming home with me”—is really the origin story of Don’s entire outlook.

One of the most visual parts of this interview for me is when he describes the shift from trying to blend in to choosing a “robotic” look:

“I always stood out. And then I just wanted to blend in. So my legs were made so that they would be cosmetic looking legs… [Then] I saw that they had these like robotic looking legs where the poles were on display and there wasn’t covers on them. And I was like, ‘I want one of those.’ I want one that just that just screams, ‘this is an artificial leg.’ And and I was really comfortable because I’d spent the first fourteen, fifteen years of my life getting comfortable with this”.

Editing his thoughts on chronic pain is a sobering reminder of the daily reality behind the “inspiration.” He’s so candid about the fact that if you take ten thousand steps, you are reminded you’re in pain five thousand times. Yet, his resolve is unshakable: “I refuse to have a crap day because we don’t know when our last one’s going to be. And if I’m going to have a challenge to have a great day, it’s because my legs are sore and I’m going to have to work harder”.

As I wrap up this edit, his final advice to those newly facing amputation hits home:

“My first piece of advice is just take a moment… accepting that change is a huge thing, and it doesn’t mean you have to like the change, just means you have to accept it, because then it will stop the battle that you’re going to have every day… take photos of the people that come and see you, you know, and and as weird as this sounds, try and find a way to enjoy this, because this is your life now and it’s not a bad thing. It’s what you’re going to make it”.