Kerry-lee Gockel

State government team leader, 39, Queensland

When you are missing a set of limbs, the body adapts

It fascinates me when people find it incredible that I can swim because it’s probably one of the most natural things in the world for me. My kick and my style are essentially the same as anyone else, just minus the arms.

In May, I swam 10km in a charity swim around Mudjimba Island (or Old Woman Island) on the Sunshine Coast and called myself “the wingless warrior”. Previously my longest swim was about 6km.

My husband Paul and I go on ocean swim safari holidays to various destinations around the world where the focus is on open water swimming. We’ve been to Fiji, the Philippines, Indonesia and, most recently, to Heron Island.

I plan to do the Mudjimba Island swim again and I haven’t ruled out one day doing a bigger one – maybe the 20km swim around Great Keppel Island and the 20km swim to Rottnest Island (in WA).

When I was born, my disability came as a complete surprise to everybody in the room, including the doctors. Scans were not routinely done and my mum was healthy and had an uneventful pregnancy. She had a natural birth and out popped this baby with no arms.

Doctors ran a whole lot of tests and there was nothing else wrong with me, it was just one of those things. My official diagnosis is called congenital amelia which means absence of both limbs. We’ve never pursued the why, it just is what it is.

I was born in Durban, South Africa, but grew up in a little town on the southeast coast called Umkomaas. Our family (with sister Nikki, 36) moved to Perth, Australia, when I was nine and then to Brisbane when I was 12.

My parents (Jen, 65, and Peter, 67, of the Sunshine Coast hinterland) are amazing. They didn’t wrap me up in cotton wool, they took it (my disability) in their stride, they brought me up with the philosophy that I had to learn to operate in the world around me and not rely too heavily on having things adapted to suit me.

In South Africa, because we lived near the beach and everyone had a pool, my parents saw the importance of me being water safe so they put me into swimming lessons from quite a young age.

They realised most team sports were probably going to be out of the question. Swimming was something I could do and I have loved water from a very young age. They also put me into music lessons and

I used to play the keyboard. My feet have really become my hands and can do most things that hands do.

When you are missing a set of limbs, the body adapts incredibly well and I’ve always just used my feet. The dexterity of toes when you are forced to use them as fingers is quite incredible. I can do most things – cook, write with a pen, type, hold a cup of coffee, drive a car. Up until two years ago, I drove a car that was virtually unmodified – I looked like a pretzel with my foot on the steering wheel – but age caught up with me and now I’m a little less flexible. Now I have a foot steering modification in the footwell of my car.

My experience has been that once people get to know me, it becomes a nonevent in my life. I like it when people forget I don’t have arms.

After school (at Ormiston College),

I did a double degree Bachelor of Laws and Business at QUT and worked as a lawyer in private practice from 2006 to 2010 but decided it wasn’t the career path I wanted to pursue.

My husband Paul, 57, is a management accountant for the Queensland government and we’ve been married seven years. He has spina bifida and represented Australia at the 1992 and 1996 Paralympic Games in swimming. When he retired from competition, he worked part time for Queensland Swimming as a development officer for swimmers with a disability. I met him in 2004 when I was competing in state championships in multi-disability events.

But it wasn’t until almost seven years later, in late 2011, that we bumped into each other again on the streets in Brisbane and started dating. Paul can walk but he has a loss of sensation in some parts of his legs and his muscle development isn’t the same as someone who doesn’t have spina bifida. So between the two of us we have one really good pair of legs and one really good pair of arms.

Swimming is a mutual love for us so we spend a lot of time at the beach. We also love camping and recently got ourselves a caravan and we’ve got some great plans to swim in all the 58 or so ocean pools along the coast of NSW between Yamba and Eden. My other major hobby is cooking. I love to cook and we love to entertain in our home and share our love of food.

I don’t want my disability to be front and centre of every interaction. But I also respect that if people are going to understand about different disabilities and understand that I’m just like anybody else, then part of that understanding means I’m going to get asked questions and be stared at. It’s part and parcel of broadening people’s awareness and making it as normal as possible in society.

I’ve also started doing some motivational speaking, which is something I’m very interested in.

Leading a life without arms has meant that not everything is possible – and I don’t believe that “anything is possible”. But, despite not having arms, I have led a really full life. My disability has not held me back from having some truly amazing experiences and adventures.

I’m a glass-half-full person. I really do feel very positive about my life and the experiences I’ve had. I always see the good in what life has to offer and I am so grateful for my family, friends and colleagues – it’s people like them who make it possible for people like me to do epic stuff.