Between all-out voluntary amputation, like Jason’s hand amputation story, and medically-dicated amputation from injury or disease, is a grey area of semi-voluntary amputation where amputation is chosen — often pushed for — to solve a medical problem that would not normally require amputation. Doctors often resist it, but the amputees persistence at a “quality of life” argument eventually lead to surgical intervention. In this set of interviews (all of which I started with the incorrect assumption that they were purely voluntary amputations) we talk to three such individuals, one who removed a toe, and another who removed his leg, and a third who removed a finger.

– Shannon

BME: Tell me a little about yourself?

I’m a person who enjoys “foot art”. That is, bunions, overlapped toes, feet that look different, and toe amputations.

BME: So not an interest in amputation per se, but just different sorts of feet?

Yes… My foot fetish started, I think, when I was a kid, probably seven or eight years old. Since then I always looked, searched, and observed different shapes of feet and toes — the more “odd” a woman’s foot, the more curious I became.

BME: Tell me about your foot.

In my case, the second toe always overlapped my big toe, but over time it overlapped more and more. I went to a foot doctor and asked him to remove the toe. It wasn’t a medical neccessity, and I liked the way it looked [with the overlapped toe], but I had to stand at work all day for years and the pain overcame the desire… The next step was to have it removed.

BME: Was it hard to convince the doctor?

The doctor wanted to straighten the toe, but the result would be a stiff toe and the procedure would be eight to twelve weeks. I didn’t want a stiff toe and didn’t want to lose the time… So, we agreed on the toe amp.

BME: To what extent was it something you had to do, and to what extent was it something you wanted to do?

It’s like the chicken and the egg… I’d say both… The desire was always there to do it but this made it possible. I liked the look of my overlapped toe but it was time to move on to a toe amp… I guess it would be “wanted to do”. My wife also had it done and she didn’t mind, so, “What the Hell”…

BME: Your wife also has toe amputations?

Yes, she had it done twenty years ago, and she adjusted to her toe amps. She had similar, overlapping toes, and it was easier to remove them than deal with the pain and time to rebuild them… We’re very busy people.

BME: Does she know you have a foot fetish of this type?

Yes, she knows and we share my foot fetish. Her feet have bunions — at one time overlapped toes — and now toe amps plus extras…

BME: How do people respond?

Not many people know about my toe amp, but some people stare at it when I go barefoot or wear sandals, more so than they did when my toe was overlapped… Their curiosity excites me.

BME: What was the aftercare and healing from the procedure?

The doctor told me to keep it covered until the next visit, but I just had to look and take pictures. The healing process was fast, and there was no pain from the “get-go”. In about ten days it was all over.

BME: What does it feel like now?

It feels like something is touching where the scar tissue is. I like it a lot. My bunion also got bigger, because my big toe took the place of my second toe. I’d have preferred it if the doctor removed all the excess tissue where the toe was, because one gets a pressure sensation where the tissue was left, so I returned to the doctor a year later and he did that. It now feels and looks much better.

I always loved feet and what I have seen with foot modifications, bunions and odd deformities all my life, amputation is my favorite “fetish”.

BME: Tell me a little about yourself?

I’m a 51 year old bi-sexual man with some ink and other body mods. I’m Ex-US Navy Sub Forces — “Deeper Longer Faster” — and happily married to a RN.

BME: Tell me about your amputation?

The procedure was done by a doctor and was a trans-femoral (above the knee) amputation of my left leg. It was a very difficult procedure actually as there was titanium hardware in the bone from prior surgery. They had to make a step cut of the tissues, avoiding previous scar tissue as much as possible. The step cut, if you took the leg and looked at it from the side was cut to look like a step. This allows a thick flap of meat and fat to form a cushion and also a good closure of the remnant limb. All the major arteries needed to be tied off as well as the nerves being cut. Also, tendons need to be reattached in a fashion that will help you walk with a prosthetic. Trust me, a leg amputation is not for an amateur to do! Slip up and, well, you can easily bleed out very quickly and not have any real mobility even with a prosthetic.

BME: What story do you tell about how your amputation?

Well, it depends on the person (LOL)!!!

Mostly I tell the straight out truth short version. The long version is what leads up to me deciding to do this.

Roughly six years ago I was hit head on and my left leg was shattered along with numerous other injuries. I almost died. I had lots of pain and the left leg never really healed. Trust me, after being in a wheelchair or on crutches for almost five years it gets tired real fast, especially if you are an active person like me. I went round and round with various doctors and got the song and dance “it’s a viable limb,” meaning, “yeah, it’s alive, so what if it’s useless.”

Total bullshit — typical of the attitude in medicine today. Seriously, it’s a double standard in medicine. We can keep a limb alive even though it will never be useful again, so we will and let the patient go through hell. It even comes down to a double standard in other areas as well. Women can get lipo, boob jobs, or reductions hysterectomies… mastectomies, hey no problem, no letters from a psych… just “can you pay?” Yet if a man wants an Orchi, well, he must be nuts — better get two Psych’s to say hey it’s okay… bullshit. Medicine has ignored the most important thing — your quality of life and only you can say what is best for that, not some white robed geek. I was fortunate that my personal MD knew of a vascular surgeon who takes that into account, so no psych board. I know many other amputees who went through hell before they got the surgery they needed to get on with life.

BME: What was your aftercare and healing process like?

Very painful and drawn out. The burning sensation was enough to drive me up a wall. Healing took about eight weeks for the initial period, and total healing almost a year. Getting comfortable was the hard part, especially in bed. You need to relearn sleep posture. Aftercare was like any other major surgery but with an exception — daily checking the stub with a mirror, looking for wound openings and tissue break downs. The process also was getting used to showering sitting down. The first time after staple removal I tried standing up — it felt like the leg was still there and down I went. That’s the hard part. You still feel the limb even though it’s gone.

Aftercare involved eight weeks of PT to re-strengthen the limb and my back for normal posture, and then another twelve weeks learning to walk again with the prosthetic and also to straighten my back out from years in a chair.

BME: What does it feel like now and how do you like it?

It’s painful many days… I have what are called neuromas. These are nerves that were cut but have regrown into ball-like structures that are very sensitive to heat, humidity, cold, and touch. But truth is, I feel great. I can walk again and enjoy walking along the beach like I used to. I feel whole again.

Most days I am happy with my decision — remember I elected to do this — but there are other days I wish the hell I had my leg back.

BME: Anything you would do differently if you did it again?

Yes, I would have done it much sooner then I did

BME: Are you at all interested in other amputations? You mentioned an orchi (castration)?

For me where I am in life an Orchi is a viable thing from several aspects. First off, I am prone to epididymitis due to a series of injuries to my testes. Seriously I have had two bouts in the last year and the pain is very exquisite — not the nice kind any way. Second, my partner has a very low sex drive and, well, masturbation just staves off the itch only so long. Even though I am bi I am monogamist so relief outside of the relationship is both not in my character or realistic. There have also been six cases of testicular cancer on my fathers side of the family developing around the age I am now. So from one view it would be health insurance so to speak. I also have no need to reproduce with my son grown and moved away as well as my daughter being a parent as well. No need to be a dad again for this kid, LOL. From an erotic point I also find it appealing to have a large degree of control of my sex drive and also find the whole thing a big arousal. Body image comes in as well I really never have felt totally comfortable with my testes, or for that matter, my birth gender as well. Latent Transsexual I guess. Seriously, when growing up Westerns were the big thing on the tube and while my male friends always wanted to play the cowboy or gunslinger, secretly inside I wanted to be the one rescued.

Remember the era I grew up in SRS was a new thing with only one in the States at the time as far as we know Christine Jorgensen and Stonewall was a recent event.

BME: How did you decide to go through with amputation?

Almost five years getting my mind set right and it still was a hard thing to do. I mean, sure, mine was sort of driven by a health need, albeit I could have gone on without having it done, but it is not a thing to take lightly. I have seen some of the photos of folks taking chisel to a joint or toe or more, but I bet most of them did not think it through long term. An amputation is not like ink in that you can laser it off or remove the implant or jewelry. Once that part is gone, that’s it, game over, for that part of the body.

There are also many things to research before doing this things like “Phantom Pain” — for example your left toe hurts like you stubbed it but it’s not there. “Phantom limb” — your leg is folded under you sitting on couch but it’s really not there. Then there are neuromas — nerves that have regrown into a ball… very very painful! Then there are the looks you get. People staring, but when you catch them, they avert their eyes — they are sackless assholes staring like that.

BME: Would you call what you did a “voluntary” amputation, or something that was medically required?

It was a completely voluntary amputation. I wanted to try to have some form of normalcy again. I was hoping to end the pain I was in 24/7 and get off the pain killers that were fogging my mind. Plus the messed up leg was to me an eyesore on my body. I also couldn’t really do anything prior to the amp. It was pure hell sitting and not being able to take part. Well, I did get some normalcy back. I like my body again, but I still have pain… oh, well, trade offs… LOL.

I had to more or less kick and scream and brow beat people to have it done. The Doctors were not willing to do the surgery as it was not a life threatening issue and the soft tissues were healthy. The Femur itself had never healed completely. As far as they were concerned it was healthy for me to spend my life in a wheelchair or get around on crutches. It really took a lot of effort to get the amputation. With the exception of one doctor they had “ethics” issues cutting off what they perceived as a healthy (LMAO) limb.

BME: I definitely understand what you mean though on the pain issues — I had a surgery (bone tumor removal) that messed up the nerves in my leg, and while I’m physically fine, I’m in constant pain from it and have thought for a long time about whether it would be better to amputate it (not that a doctor would for me, and realistically, the phantom pain could easily stay after an amputation).

You could do the route that I took and keep telling your primary care MD that the pain is intolerable, pain med’s are not an option, and that it is affecting your overall quality of life. I was fortunate that when I relocated to this area and my new primary care MD is an extreme advocate of quality of life for the patient. Many MDs are still of the mindset that as long as the limb is viable they won’t do it even though the patient’s life is miserable. There are patient advocates around — a web search can help.

Phantom pain is a weird thing — it is totally different then what I even thought. Best thing I can describe is it feels like you stubbed your left toe yet the toe is gone on up to cramps and stuff in the limb like it is still there it is not in the remnant area but below that. Now what I have is different — that is the neuroma where the nerves have regrown into a ball. Phantom pain can be controlled and eliminated by several means from using a mirror to trick the mind to scratching or rubbing the non existent limb. Yeah it sounds odd, but it works and it can also be controlled with acupuncture. Besides, in 99% of the cases it is not a constant thing, and for most people well it stops after a while once and for all.

BME: How old are you?

I’m 25 years old and currently enrolled in welding school in Manhattan.

BME: What lead up to your amputation?

In june of 2005 I was working for Steinway and Sons, at their piano factory in Queens. My hand slipped into one of the cutting machines and cut across the tops of my knuckles on my middle and ring fingers, severing the tendons. I had surgery on them and regained most of the use of my ring finger but the joint on my middle finger fused due to the bone being damaged as well. About eight months later I had surgery on the middle finger again to cut out the fused part and try to get my finger to bend. After months of physical therapy, my finger wouldn’t bend. It was permanently crooked, swollen, purple, and painful. I was always getting it caught and banging it on stuff. There had been too much damage and it had sat too long without bending to do anything else. I went to see a different doctor, as the first doctor refused to amputate, and he immediately approved the surgery. It had been over a year since the accident. On September 19th of 2006 I had the finger amputated.

BME: How was your finger removed?

I had it amputated by a doctor in Massachusetts. They knocked me out and cut through the PIP joint (proximal interphalangeal joint). the doctor left a flap of skin on the bottom of my finger at the joint that he then pulled up and over the joint and sewed it to the top of my finger to seal it off.

BME: How was aftercare and healing?

Aftercare was easy. My entire right hand was bandaged for about six weeks. I wasn’t allowed to remove the bandage until I went back to the doctor’s. The healing was pretty intense — pain like I had never felt before and an incredible itching deep inside the bone. The first few nights were particularly rough. I had been prescribed vicodin, but it didn’t do anything and I pretty much laid there in bed cradling my hand until I eventually fell asleep — passed out. After the first couple of weeks it hurt less and less, but it was still painful, itchy, and very tender. Once the bandage came off, the stump was swollen about twice the size and I had to wear a little silicone sleeve over it to make sure I never accidentally bumped it on anything… which still happens a surprising amount considering it’s tucked away between two full fingers!

I also had ghost sensations. Pain was actually not all too common. The biggest ghost sensation I had was an itching in the tip of my finger. I’d always reach out to scratch it and then realize what it was, and there was nothing I could do to stop that. I did occasionally have ghost pain sensations and they are really easy to deal with. I couldn’t do anything to alleviate the pain so it didn’t matter that it was happening on a body part I no longer had. I also occasionally had the sensation of my fingertip touching something when the rest of fingers did. The first time it happened was when I went to pick up a glass. I distinctly felt my middle finger tip touch the glass as I wrapped my real fingers around it. It was a weird mental trip for sure. I had been expecting the other ghost sensations, but not that.

BME: What does it feel like now that it’s well healed?

Now it’s hardly noticeable. But to be fair, it was hardly noticeably as soon as the initial pain went away. My middle finger had been immobile for over a year before it was cut off. I was used to not being able to use it for anything, so once it was amputated I never had a period of adjustment. It was a relief once it was gone. I’m much happier now that it’s been removed. I see it as a positive thing and have fun with my stump. I have a tattoo on my side that is a portrait of my hand missing the finger, “MINUS ONE” is tattooed across my knuckles, and I wear the mummified finger around my neck.

BME: Anything you’d do differently?

I’d try to get it done a lot sooner — that year with it still attached was hell.

BME: Do you have any interest in further amputations?

Probably not completely voluntarily, but I do definitely have a much larger interest in amputations now. I’ve thought about cutting off the other middle finger to be symmetrical, but I doubt I’d ever go through with it. It’s kind of funny it happened. When i was in high school, an anatomy teacher I had spoke of a guy he knew from when the teacher worked in a hospital. The guy was a mechanic and had damaged his ring finger several times. It got to the point where his ring finger was useless and he had very little control over it. He ended up having his ring finger amputated all the way into his palm and had a four fingered hand, with no spaces or stumps. i always loved that story and thought it would be awesome to have a four fingered hand. That, and all the exposure through BME and people I’ve met with amputations — my landlord is missing the same finger as me, as well as part of his index finger. That all made it really easy to have my finger cut off.

Shannon Larratt
BME.com

If thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.

My friend “Jason” (not his real name) is one of thousands of amputees living with a huge secret. Years ago, after a lifetime of anguish due to having an extra hand — essentially a birth defect in his opinion — he took the radical step of amputating this hand just above the wrist. He’s never regretted his action, and feels that now his body is “right”. Other than his former BIID (“Body Integrity Identity Disorder”) affectation, he’s completely normal, and now that he’s surgically corrected himself his life has improved drastically. Jason was kind enough to speak with me candidly about his experiences.

* * *

BME: Tell me a little about yourself and your life — how should I introduce you?

Let me be blunt — I staged an accident. Nobody’s doubting it, and my friends and family, so many folks, came together for me back then, raised a lotta money, prayed, and said such sweet, loving things. There’s no way I want enough details to get out there that they could connect up me with my ‘accident’, with the person you’re interviewing, who’s voluntary.

BME: I understand completely — what was the “accident” you used to remove your hand?

I don’t want to be hugely specific, but I used a very sharp power tool, after having tried out different methods of crushing and cutting. I know first aid so I was able to stop the bleeding with pressure, but I was worried that I could pass out and not call for help and lose too much blood. No worries, though, I guess I’m in good enough shape that I didn’t even feel dizzy.

My goal was to get the job done with no hope of reconstruction or re-attachment, and I wanted some method that I could actually bring myself to do. I did experiments with animal legs I got from a butcher. It’s lucky I thought of that, because some of my early attempts were total fuck ups and would have ended up with a damaged hand which might have had to undergo years of painful reconstruction, and worse yet, no amputation.

BME: How was the aftercare and healing?

I had some shooting pains, almost like electric shocks in the end of my stump at first, as the cut nerves tried to figure out what to report. That was gone in a couple months, though for some people it goes on for years. Aside from that, my stump was completely healed when they took the bandage off a couple weeks later, with just a faint red line across the scar that went away in a couple months. In some parts it was quite sensitive, with strange mis-interpretations of sensations — like when I touched something cold, it got back to my brain as the sensation of burning. One real weird sensation was to run my fingertip from the top to the bottom of my stump, across the scar. It felt like I was running my fingertip right through my arm! Now it mostly feels like it ends where it ends. I can feel things with it, but nowhere as precisely as with my fingertips. A huge surprise at first was how much lighter my forearm was. Maybe it was because of that, or maybe because my brain didn’t ever completely accept that I had a right hand in the first place, but it didn’t take long to accept that I couldn’t reach out and grab stuff, and instead had to pinch things between my stump and my body, or a table or something.

BME: Can you still sense the missing hand? On the whole, how do you like it?

I can sort of sense my fingers, and can imagine that they’re moving, but I’m also really aware of the end of my stump — about 5″ below my elbow — and what I can hold with it, and how far it will reach. I feel like my body is correct at last, and that’s a way cool feeling. I’ve adapted to doing everything one-handed — not that I can do everything. For a while, my tennis game was off since I had to do everything left-handed, and my balance was a little screwy. Skateboarding took a bit of adapting. Running, swimming, no problem. I can’t play that cool jazzy sax anymore… that hurt… but I’m getting into hand drumming. Strange, but it works! I guess there’s a period of fighting it, but then your body just goes, “Hey, this is me now… what a groove”.

BME: Is there anything you’d do differently if you were to do it again?

No, it came off better than I ever imagined.

BME: Hahaha, “came off,” ok… Will you do any more amputations?

No, my body is just right now.

BME: We’ve touched on it, but I guess now the big question — “why”?

I’m one of those body-integrity-disorder (BIID) dudes. As long as I can remember, having two hands was a defect in my body — something that was not meant to be. For me philosophically, it’s totally different from body mods, which I also have. I don’t think I had any choice. My right hand just didn’t belong to my body. As a little kid, I soon learned that I was the odd one out, and that amputation was a bad thing. My parents reprimanded me for staring at amputations, but it was totally mesmerizing for me. Somehow I made it through high school, with hormones and peer pressure doing their best to mask my feelings. In college, I met a wonderful woman, and our love kept my thoughts of amputation at bay at first, but the need grew and grew. I don’t know how I ever made it through to getting my Master’s. My mind was more and more consumed, so that sometimes I would even blurt out an embarrassing word, like “stump” or “hook”. I don’t think she really grasped what was going down, but my lover couldn’t take my distraction, and we parted company very sadly.

That totally shook me up. It was way clear that I had to get rid of my hand so that I could live. I began doing research and experiments right off. Maybe that’s not exactly what the old college would think of as the best application for scientific method, but it paid off! Now that I’m free of my hand, I’m loving life, and have opened a cool little business with a partner who, it turns out, is none other than my lover from college. I still haven’t told her the truth about my “accident”, but she loves the change that’s come over me, and best of all, she loves being my lover again.

BME: Do you think you’ll ever tell her, or is this a secret that you’ll likely never tell anyone in your immediate life? It’s certainly something huge to hide!

It’s huge to hide, but for now, it’s huger to tell! Also, the “accident” has passed, so now the focus has changed to how I live with it. People perceive, rightly, that I don’t groove that much on talking about how it happened.

BME: It’s a very big secret to keep so deep “in the closet”.

Yeah, it’s a biggie. For sure it’s not rational to want to cut off your arm or leg. There’s no argument you can make that life will be easier, or that you’ll be more capable doing anything. Even though a hook can do some things that a bare hand can’t, a hand holding a tool can always do everything a hook can, and so much more. Even though you can run in prosthetic legs that give you a mechanical advantage, you can’t compete with those.

So it’s irrational, but is it insane? It’s true that a major amp makes your body less functional, so how can it be sane to do it? For me, I think the answer is in what I was going through before my amp. I was so consumed by the drive to lose my hand that I could scarcely function.

Now I’ve totally lost the desire to amputate anything. I’m totally used to doing things with a hand and a stump. It’s true I need to ask for help like once a day, that I’m a bit slower at dish washing, keyboarding, and stuff like that, but is that worse than being seriously overweight, or being short of breath from smoking, or even trying to walk in stiletto heels?

All that said, though, there’s no way that society is ready to accept me amping my hand just to get piece of mind. Like I said, I picked up real early on the feelings about amps, and they were all negative. Even little kids can sense taboos and know when to shut them up inside. I know that for me, hiding that away caused me to hide other feelings and emotions too, as if letting myself go in other ways would let out my big secret. From all I’ve read and experienced, amputating the unwanted part usually solves the BIID sufferer’s problem, and lets them get on with life. I’m certainly doing a lot better in living — taking care of relationships, doing well in my work, getting into my community — all stuff that totally got neglected before.

BME: Do you think that the medical system should offer amputation as a service, perhaps with the same type of screening as a sex change? And do you feel any guilt about “taking advantage of” the medical system, or your family and friends, who you mentioned were very supportive? Finally, do you think your life would have continued to spiral out of control if you hadn’t taken this drastic action?

I super feel like this “having a spare limb” is a definite body deformity, which needs to be cured by surgery to allow the BIID person to lead a normal life. It’s sort of like people who are born with a vestigial tail or a six-fingered hand. I totally understand that almost everyone would think that’s totally backwards from reality, that they would see our un-amped bodies as being normal, not needing a “cure” by amputation. Given that viewpoint, of course, there’s no justification for using public resources, but considering the mental health and, yes, increased capability of a healthy amputee over a tormented BIID sufferer, it’s more justifiable. I didn’t use any public funds, but a friend did, and I think that was justified.

That guilt is a whole nother thing. Yeah, there’s a lot of places guilt can get into all this. Guilt about not being straight-up about having the feelings of needing the amp all through your life, about falsifying the details of the “accident”, about acting believably upset about the amp, and then hiding the BIID and true history afterwards. Guilt about not coming out publicly to demand humane treatment for BIID. This can get real gut-wrenching real fast. Luckily there’s other BIID people on the Internet who share my reality. Without them, this would all be a lot harder. Thanks, dudes.

If I hadn’t gotten amped, I can’t imagine any way my life would have not spiraled out of control without a drug-induced stupor…something else that woulda been a huge drain on society. Rather than that I’m a healthy, active dude, engaged in my community, who happens to be an amputee. It that so bad?

BME: Not at all… And I have to wonder how many amputees share your story. I’ve interviewed and met quite a lot of people who are living with the same secret.

For most of my life I thought I was the only one, but I’ve met quite a few since I made my amp happen. We’re a lonely, isolated company, though.

BME: I think something that comes across quite clearly is that even though this was and incredibly drastic action to take, that this is something you were sure about for a very, very long time. Did you go through periods of self doubt, or even seek counseling?

That’s a really strange thing — thinking back, I don’t ever remember any self-doubt. There were times of my rational self saying that I had to keep down those ideas cuz I couldn’t function without that hand. So I always knew rationally that it didn’t make sense, but I never remember feeling that it was right for me to have that hand either. I was too in the closet to ever admit that to a counselor. Other voluntary amps I’ve talked to are the same. We would do anything to avoid being “talked out of” or “cured” of our need to lose that part. Well, I guess it kinda crept up on me, cuz I was mentally ready to focus completely on doing it after my lover had enough of my distraction.

BME: You mentioned you have “regular” body modification as well. How is getting those — which I see as “enhancing” the body — different for you from what you did — which I see as “normalizing” the body?

When I’ve gotten body mods, they’re always to make my body more outstanding. I guess there’s an element of “in your face-ness” in there. I was way into the punk scene for a while. Having gauged out facial stuff and some gothy tats in obvious places helps put that across. Usually, I want to keep that exposed, wearing shorts in cold weather, and so on. I think it gives out a statement about where I think society has sunken to, and that I’m not going to let things just cruise in that rut.

My amp, though, is totally different. At first, I was way weirded out by people staring. I tried to hide it by tucking my sleeve in a pocket. I was totally scared about meeting up with someone I knew who hadn’t found out yet. I actually ran and hid more than once. Even though it felt way cool to be in my right body, I’d hidden that drive for so long that the guilty feelings took a while to go away. Putting my stump right out there was huge for me. I actually met a voluntary amp dude on the Internet who totally worked through that with me, till I came to see how wonderful it is that I look the way I feel. I still get nervous about doing things with my stump in public, but that’s improving. Even though having an amputation makes me feel normal, I need to accept that most people don’t feel comfortable with it, feeling unsure about what to do, thinking it’s ugly, worrying about how hard it is for me and such. Usually, I just try to overpower that with humor or showing my excitement for life, but sometimes I’m not up for that, and those feelings flow.

BME: In terms of how it changes your life, what are some of the hardships that it’s induced, that while they’ve been worth it for you, would likely not be to someone who’s not in this for the same reasons? Why should someone NOT do this?

I guess the hugest thing is that it’s not reversible. You can’t decide you don’t like it later and have it cured by laser surgery or something. While it is possible to transplant body parts, that’s a huge thing, requiring lots of money and a lot of time to get a donor, drugs, and all that. I would never advise anyone to get a voluntary amputation. If I did, and they found out later that it wasn’t as cool as they thought, how could they not blame me? Even if it seems like it would be super cool to have that sensation, that look, and that whole experience of adapting to the handicap, seeing people’s reactions, and so on, the novelty of that wears off in like a year. After that, you’ve learned how to do all the stuff you need to for daily life, or ways to get others to help, or what to give up on; your friends are used to your way of doing things, so they hardly notice. Then you have the rest of your life to live as an amputee, with all the baggage that brings, and no more thrills.

For people with BIID, it’s totally different. The things that are negative about having an amputated limb are the normal things that we should have been living with all along. We don’t need to be advised about whether to get an amputation or not, whether it’s cool or not, how it will feel, how people will react or anything else. I would never put anyone on the spot by asking them to counsel me about anything so life-changing.

I’ve so forgotten how I did things before my amputation, that it feels like I never hand that hand. In a weird way, that makes me a lot more capable… I don’t spend time trying to figure out how I’ll do a new thing one-handedly, I just start doing it, just like all you two-handed people would.

BME: Any last things we should cover?

I’m very concerned that I’ve made amputation seem right for someone wanting an extreme body mod, cuz it is a major handicap, something that could totally fuck up a person’s life, unless they have the right outlook. If someone does this without much consideration they will have a lotta regrets soon after.

BME: Agreed. Thanks for talking to me about this — if someone wants to get in touch with you, is there a way to do that?

They can write me at [email protected].

For stories and pictures on voluntary amputation,
visit the BME/extreme members’ archives.

Shannon Larratt
BME.com

I first met Leen about seven years ago in one of the Voluntary Amputee mailing lists where he was inquiring about bloodless ways to amputate his left leg, at the time considering dry ice. Not long afterwards he contributed photos of his recent toe amputations and other body modifications to BME, and a few months ago induced an infection in one of his toes (by, among other things, standing in dirty fish ponds and soaking it in motor oil) which eventually led to half of his foot being amputated by his doctors.

Outwardly Leen is a “normal” guy — other than his limp, without seeing his feet you’d never know of his interests. He’s a straight (and married) forty-two year old construction worker in Pretoria, South Africa, where his hobbies include motorsports, nature, working out, and reading — and still slowly working toward his dream of a LAK (“left above the knee”) amputation.

* * *

Shannon: When do you think your amputation interests first developed, and how?

As a child I was always fascinated by people that looked different. I loved to look at amputees just to see the stump dangling and not really doing anything… I just loved that. My mother always told me not to stare at people with disabilities, and that made me wonder even more what it would feel like to have just one leg.

Then at school we had a girl with one underdeveloped leg and one good leg because of polio. She had a prosthetic leg, but the best part was when the leg had to go for repair, as she use to come to school on crutches — those where good days at school. We also had a student teacher who had four fingers amputated on her one hand — she only had a thumb. It was always nice looking at her carrying her briefcase and writing on the blackboard.

Shannon: When and how did you come to realize that you actually wanted to become an amputee?

I was about five years old when I first tried to cut my two little toes off with a pair of scissors. I was unsuccessful of course. Also, when we would play doctor doctor, when I was the patient I always tied my one leg so that I would look like an amputee.

Shannon: That seems early… And when did you actually do the first successful amputation?

I did my first amputations when I was thirty-five years old.

Leen’s feet in early 2002.

Shannon: Did you ever see a therapist or wonder if you might be unstable?

No, I never saw a therapist. I always knew this was the right thing to do. There was no “internal struggle”… nothing like that.

Shannon: While many people into voluntary amputation are only into amputation, you’re into a broader range of body modification — I know you have a subincision, as well as having done a partial castration… Are they linked interests, or separate?

I just love to be different. Thanks to the internet I was able to see what other people do and try some of those things myself.

Shannon: How did the partial castration happen?

I was just exposing my testicle, playing with it — I struggled to get it back into my sack, but couldn’t so I just cut it off. There was a lot of bleeding, but I managed to stop it. Later I tried to do a partial penectomy, but ended up at the ER.

Shannon: Why did you go to the ER that time?

I was losing a lot of blood. I knew I had to get to the ER — as soon as possible! I fainted twice on the way there because of blood loss!

Shannon: I’m glad you’re OK — I assume that the penectomy and similar play means there’s a sexual aspect to your modifications in general?

Not all of them. I think to have a partial penectomy would be interesting — not to be able to have penetrative sex anymore, but still be able to cum by masturbating or from a blow job.

Shannon: It’s my feeling that as a generalization amputation and body modification is sexual behavior, almost like the extreme mating dances that animals do to attract each other… To me this also helps explain why these extremes are almost always male behavior rather than female… What are your thoughts on that subject?

I agree with that.

Shannon: You’re into CBT as well?

Yes, I am into CBT… Every now and then I love to torture my dick.

Shannon: What’s the motivation?

It just feels good.

* * *

Shannon: You mentioned in the past that you don’t want to lose a lot of blood when you do procedures… Is that why you chose to induce an infection for the toe amputation rather than doing it by just cutting it off?

Yes. I think toes and fingers are easy, but anything more gets a bit tricky. I do it on my own at home, so if anything goes wrong I could bleed to death. Thus the infection route is better.

Shannon: How did you do your previous toe amputations?

For most of my previous amputations I put my feet in a bucket of ice for twenty minutes, and then I use a cable tie. For the first ones I just used a chisel and hammer and chopped them off. On later amputations I used a scalpel to cut right up to the bone. Then I pull back the flesh, and use the chisel and hammer to chop off the toe. Finally, I stitch it up. I take the stitches out after ten days.

On one toe I was just “playing” with an old chisel I found… I put it on my toe and pushed too hard and it went right through the bone — I then just had to push harder until the toe was amputated. Of course, an infection set in because the chisel was dirty and I had to go to hospital where they did a ray amputation [note: a ray amputation is where the bone above the toe is removed as well — this is what caused the “hoof” type split in Leen’s foot].

Preparing to chop off a toe.

Shannon: Which method would you recommend to others — a chisel job, or cut and stitched?

It heals much faster if you stitch it up. After ten days the stitches can be taken out and it is basically healed. The other way takes about two months to heal completely.

Shannon: Have you done any amputations (or other modifications) that are visible to the public, or are they all relatively hide-able?

None of them are visible — I just walk with a slight limp. Most people I meet ask me what’s wrong. I then just tell them I had a midfoot amputation.

Inducing the toe amputation, and the results of the first intervention.

Shannon: With the most recent amputation, where the infection got very bad and necessitated further removal, how risky was that?

My life was never at risk. I still went to work the Friday and Saturday after they did the midfoot amputation.

Shannon: What did you think of the “surprise” of getting a midfoot rather than a toe amputation?

I was in the hospital for two days and then flew into Africa for my Christmas holiday. I am happy with half a foot, but the first doctor wanted to do a below the knee amputation, which would have been first prize! Unfortunately he sent me to an orthopedic surgeon, and after more X-Rays and an MRI, they decided on a midfoot amputation.

Shannon: I’d make the argument that it’s probably more dangerous to use the induced infection route due to risks of septicemia and so on, versus the blood loss and shock risks of a “chop it off” method…

I’ve done both methods. Blood loss in my toes is not that a big of a problem, but if you cut off more, or start on something like your penis, there are big blood vessels so the loss of blood becomes an issue. The last two toes I did I struggled to get the stitches in, so I thought that going the infection route might be better. Since I am a diabetic, I just go to the diabetic foot clinic and they prescribe antibiotics which help against septicemia — I just make sure that my toe doesn’t heal and eventually they will amputate.

Leens foot stitched up after being shortened.

Shannon: What would you say to people who believe it’s an abuse of the system for people to “force” taxpayers to cover an amputation by “tricking” doctors into doing it?

I have private medical aid and the monthly contributions are quite high, so why not make them pay for the amputation? It is safer when a doctor does it, and it makes me happy. The doctors and nurses think it is fantastic that I don’t get depressed after an amputation, so I don’t waste tax payers’ money [with rehab or counseling].

Shannon: And how is the mid-foot amputation healing? Is it still maintaining that split “hoof” appearance?

It is completely healed now. The hoof split is because of the ray amputation I had a couple of years ago.

Shannon: When the stumps heal, what does it feel like?

In the beginning they are a bit more sensitive [than normal body parts]. After I did my big toe, whenever I woke up in the morning and I looked at my foot, it was still there! I think it is just imprinted in your brain, but after a couple of weeks it disappears. I do get phantom pains in my midfoot amputation — some days I can still feel my toes hurt.

Leen’s left foot, showing the healed ray amputation.

* * *

Shannon: Unlike other modifications, I think a lot of people have a guttural response to amputation and have difficulty convincing themselves it’s not always negative — that it’s universally “wrong” to induce a “handicap”…

Amputation is not like piercings and tattoos, which are more of an art form. Most people see amputation as a disability, and yes, you will struggle to do certain things, but to we who want amputations that is part of the fun! We know what to expect from life with one leg or arm — disability is all in the mind.

Shannon: So your amputations have been a completely good thing?

I love my amputations; I talk about them and show interested people my stumps… I go to gym, shower, sauna, and to the beach, and I don’t care if people look at my modifications.

Shannon: Any negatives?

Not many negatives — just the bleeding risks during the procedures.

Shannon: Are they your favorite body modification?

The amputations are my favorites. I get such a high amputating a body part! The feeling when the chisel cuts your toe off, and it just lies there, unattached to your body, and goes completely white… I just love that feeling!

Shannon: Do you think you have a specific end goal, or will you continue to do procedures to keep getting the high?

There is an end goal. I want to be a left above the knee amputee. I won’t amputate fingers.

Shannon: How do you explain the amputations to people?

People at work think I am unlucky!

Shannon: And the doctors?

The doctors believe what I tell them. For example, for my missing testicle — since I live in South Africa where there is a lot of violence and crime, I just told them that I put up a fight when a couple of guys wanted to mug me, and one of them fell on top of me and stabbed me in my groin area. They believed it and asked me if I wanted to go to the police — I said no, it was dark and I didn’t get a good look at their faces.

Shannon: Has anyone gotten suspicious?

Nobody has gotten suspicious. They may think that I have been unlucky, but even when I went to the ER they believed all my explanations. It also helps that I have had diabetes for twenty years, so it is normal to get infections in your feet that don’t heal which result in amputations. Nobody knows that I help the infections along and make sure they don’t heal so I can have amputations done professionally by a doctor.

Shannon: And what does your wife think?

She does not know.

Shannon: Wow… so you’re not “out” at all — how would you feel if people found out your amputations were voluntary?

I don’t really care if people find out they were all voluntary. They will get over it — there are more important things to worry about.

Shannon: Are you interested in meeting others with this interest? Assuming you weren’t married, if you were looking for a partner, would you seek out someone with this interest?

It’s easier if you have things in common — partners should have the same interests… and I would like to touch and play with women with amputations.

Shannon: With the majority of amputee groups being very fantasy/fetish oriented, does it make it difficult to meet others with the same drives?

It is difficult to find somebody to talk, to but there are a few in those groups that will answer your questions and give advice. The most I have learned is by reading the articles on your website BME [Editor’s shameless plug: if you find this interesting and want to hear more stories and see more pictures, get a BME membership and visit the full galleries].

Shannon: What advice would you give to people who feel like this is what they need to do?

If they believe that this is what they want, they must do it, no matter what society or their friends say or think about it. They must just be 100% sure that this is what they want, because if you amputate something it is gone forever!

Shannon: What are your future body modification plans?

I am going to amputate one segment of my middle toe on my right foot, just to get the proportions right for now. I am still going to become a left above knee amputee — that is my long term plan, my dream… Also I’ll do a glansectomy or partial penectomy.

A current photo of Leen’s feet healed after the midfoot procedure.

Shannon: Finally, something that I’ve heard brought up repeatedly by others is that voluntary amputation is an insult to people who’ve had it forced on them by fate — do you think that statement has any validity, and what would you say to someone who feels that way?

It has no validity at all. Voluntary amputations are just away to get our bodies into the shape we want them to be.

Shannon Larratt
BME.com