Ten Years Later: Preparing for a Cruise as a Below-the-Knee Amputee

In just a couple of weeks, my wife, daughter and I will be boarding a cruise ship for a vacation in the Caribbean. While cruises have never been my preferred way to travel, this trip is special because we’re celebrating birthdays and making memories together.

This year also marks another milestone for me; 10 years as a below-the-knee amputee.

Ten years is long enough that most people assume I’ve adapted completely. In many ways, they’re right. I work, travel, drive, and live a full life. But the truth is that every trip still requires a little extra planning, and a cruise presents some unique challenges that many travelers never have to consider.

As departure day gets closer, I find myself feeling both excited and a little apprehensive.

What If Something Happens to My Prosthetic?

This is probably the biggest concern for many amputees. Your prosthetic isn’t just equipment, it’s your mobility, your independence, and your freedom.

What happens if a component breaks while you’re hundreds of miles from shore?

I find myself double-checking everything: extra sleeves, extra socks, tools, liners, chargers, and backup supplies. Most travelers worry about forgetting sunscreen or a phone charger. I worry about the one thing I absolutely cannot replace easily in the middle of the Caribbean.

Walking More Than Expected

One thing non-cruisers don’t always realize is just how much walking is involved.

Long hallways. Multiple decks. Shore excursions. Navigating ports. Waiting in lines.

On a typical day at home, I know my limits and my routines. On a cruise, those routines disappear. There is always the question of whether my residual limb will tolerate the increased activity for seven straight days.

Will swelling become an issue?

Will I develop a sore spot?

Will I have enough energy at the end of each day to enjoy everything my family wants to do?  I try to stay in shape enough to where people have a hard time staying up with me but a below the knee amputee uses roughly up to 30% more energy to walk then something with both legs.

Water and Prosthetics Don’t Always Mix

Cruises are built around pools, beaches, and water excursions.

For many amputees, that creates another layer of planning.

Do I wear my prosthesis to the beach?

How far is the walk from the ship?

What will the terrain be like?

Can I safely navigate wet surfaces?

Will there be enough seating nearby if I need a break?

Things that seem simple can require a surprising amount of thought.

Balance and Ship Movement

Even after 10 years, balance is something I remain aware of every day.

A moving ship adds another variable.

Most people adjust quickly to the motion of the ocean, but as an amputee, I know I may need to be more cautious on stairs, wet decks, and crowded areas. One unexpected movement or slippery surface can create challenges that others might not even notice.

The Fear Nobody Talks About

The biggest challenge isn’t always physical.

It’s the fear of becoming a burden.

Many amputees understand this feeling.

You don’t want your family changing plans because you’re tired.

You don’t want to slow anyone down.

You don’t want your mobility limitations to become the focus of the vacation.

Even after 10 years, that concern still sneaks into the back of my mind from time to time. The mind is a funny thing and will look for comfort as a way to protect us.  I try to do hard things from time to time to train my mind to push past it’s perceived limits.  Conversely, once we get our minds trained to think a certain way, we then must train our bodies to be obedient to the mind.

Why I’m Going Anyway

Despite all those concerns, I know exactly why we’re going.

Because experiences matter.

Because memories matter.

Because life doesn’t stop after amputation.

Ten years ago, I couldn’t imagine many of the things I’ve done since losing my leg. There were days when simply getting through the day felt overwhelming. Since then, I’ve traveled, worked, adapted, and learned that confidence doesn’t come from having no fears, it comes from moving forward despite them.

So, in two weeks, I’ll board that ship with my wife and daughter.

I’ll probably overpack prosthetic supplies.

I’ll probably check my equipment more times than necessary.

And I’ll probably still worry about a few things.

But I’ll also watch sunsets, explore new places, celebrate birthdays, and make memories with the people I love.

Ten years ago, I was learning how to walk again.

Today, I’m preparing to sail away.

That’s a journey worth celebrating.