This article was first published in the August 2015 issue of WIRED magazine. Be the first to read WIRED's articles in print before they're posted online, and get your hands on loads of additional content by subscribing online "I'm just an ordinary man," says Nigel Ackland, 56, whose arm was amputated in 2007 after an industrial accident the year before. "And I'm fortunate to wear an extraordinary piece of technology."
Ackland was the first patient in the world to be fitted with RSL Steeper's Bebionic3 myoelectric prosthesis. It's fast, can lift up to 40kg and has eight functional grips, for everything from a handshake to using a mouse. "But the psychological benefits really outweigh anything this could do," says Ackland. "It makes you feel human again."
Before getting the Bebionic3, Ackland went through the standard three-stage NHS treatment plan -- which still makes him grimace. First an ill-fitting passive limb that would fall off in public; then a hook; and finally a greifer -- a two-pronged attachment similar to the jaws of a crane, so uncomfortable he could only wear it a few hours a day. "That's what you get on the NHS after three or four years," he says. "If you're lucky."
The pain and frustration took their toll and Ackland -- a man who gives no indication of ever having been depressed -- describes his past thoughts of suicide. "I used to be the hunter-gatherer, provider for my wife and family -- now I struggle to wipe my backside," he says. "Psychologically I'm falling apart."
Since being fitted with the Bebonic3 in 2012, he says his capabilities have greatly improved. "The way I control it has actually evolved," he says. He used to have to consciously think about each movement. "Now, my phantom limb and my prosthetic seem to have been connected by my brain... I feel my thumb lift before the prosthetic moves. It's almost as if I'm reconnecting."
He has also reconnected with the world, after withdrawing from society after losing his arm. It's something he calls the "bionic effect". "When we shake hands, people smile, and it's a genuine smile," Ackland says. "I see that smile as a sign of acceptance for who I am. No one ever asked to shake my hook."
This article was originally published by WIRED UK
