LOSING MY LEGS WAS THE MAKING OF ME

Sophia Wyatt, 46, never wanted to be treated differently from anyone else

- MISHAAL KHAN, MATTHEW BARBOUR

Steadying myself on the skis, I looked out across the snow-capped mountains, eager to get going. It was December 1993, and just 11 months earlier, I had made the biggest sacrifice to save my life – my legs. Before then, I’d been training to become a ski instructor and despite losing my legs, I was still determined to hit the slopes once again. And here I was, proving I could do anything I set my mind to.

Waking up on New Year’s Day 1993, when I was 16, my body was aching and my head felt heavy. I put it down to the late night I’d had and decided a day in bed would help.

My mum, Jennifer, then 44, popped her head round the door throughout the day, checking I was OK, but when I woke up the next morning, I felt disorientated and the next thing I remember, I was in a complete daze. I fell in and out of consciousness and could vaguely hear the commotion around me… Mum’s panic-stricken voice on the phone, the paramedics

Steadying myself on the skis, I looked out across the snow-capped mountains, eager to get going. It was December 1993, and just 11 months earlier, I had made the biggest sacrifice to save my life – my legs. Before then, I’d been training to become a ski instructor and despite losing my legs, I was still determined to hit the slopes once again. And here I was, proving I could do anything I set my mind to.