This was published 7 months ago
Through dozens of surgeries and the threat of amputation, a warrior has emerged
By Nick Wright
Twice she has learnt how to walk again. Even after more than 25 surgeries, she faces amputation.
But Laura Reynell’s journey of perseverance has led to the cusp of her greatest achievement since a harrowing incident forced her from the navy.
“We were at sea just like normal,” Reynell recalls of the day her life was flipped on its head.
“We’d either put covers over the machine guns … or we’d unmount them and take them to the armoury. We were taking them down, and it was on one of the stairways when we just hit a wave.
“[The gun] flipped out of one of the guy’s hands, and it hit me, it landed on my foot and just landed the right way.”
Later, Reynell would be diagnosed with complex pain syndrome. As she describes it, “all my nerve endings are crazy in my foot”.
“It swells, goes purple, it feels like a knife is going through it, 24/7, every time I take a step,” she says.
“But I think the main thing I suffered with going through it was my partner was deployed during those big surgeries, so I learnt how to walk again on my own.”
Reynell’s time with the navy as a boatswain’s mate was short-lived. She had been deployed to south-east Asia and around Australia before suffering her injury a year into the job.
By 2020, she had been medically discharged.
After working injured for so long, having been told her foot was simply badly bruised, the injury had gone beyond healing.
Brisbane-raised Reynell had also relocated to Jervis Bay on the NSW South Coast, where the secluded lifestyle meant she was largely separated from those who could relate to her ordeal.
Before her service, she thrived in competition. She was an elite-level touch football player, an avid swimmer and an athletics contender.
But extensive stints on the surgery table limited her capacity to recapture that sporting glory.
Joint replacements, ligament transplants, having the foot fully pinned – nothing has healed the nerve damage in her leg and back.
It has made the 29-year-old prone to accidents. Even walking on soft sand can cause her to fall.
Come March, she faces one final chance to save her foot.
“My next surgery will hopefully fix [the nerve pain],” she says.
“They’re going to fuse it, but it only has a 30 per cent chance of working. If it doesn’t work, it’s back to the drawing board, with amputation as well.
“The doctor did warn me about it. He said, ‘You might not be able to do things properly again.’
“In my mind, I was thinking ‘whatever – he doesn’t know’. But that instant restriction of movement is what really hurt me. Overcoming hurdles constantly is becoming normal now.”
Reynell has sought solace by rediscovering her athletic passion.
First it was through the Invictus Games, where she surprised even herself by claiming a bronze medal in rowing last year, before earning her place in the Australian team for the forthcoming Warrior Games.
When the team heads for the wounded veterans’ showcase in Florida, from June 21-30, Reynell will fly the nation’s flag in wheelchair rugby, wheelchair basketball, shot put and discus.
It was by fortune she made the Invictus team in Germany, having missed out on selection before a competitor withdrew.
The crossroads moment was pivotal in her recovery from her “darkest days”.
Now, Reynell’s mind is far from the looming surgery that may throw her yet another of life’s curveballs. Her attention is fixed on taking down her American counterparts – particularly in the rugby arena.
“It’s all about finding yourself again in sport,” Reynell says.
“I have so many amazing friends, but they don’t understand the military lifestyle.
“Where I live, I’m quite rural, so it’s really hard to find people I can connect with who are my age or young and have had some form of rehab or big journey like I have.
“When I first heard of Invictus, I put my name down … I made so many friends, but also I felt like I was reconnecting again within sport.”
The Royal Commission into Defence and Veteran Suicide is expected to release its final report in September, detailing ways for discharged servicemen and women to be better supported.
For Reynell, the problem goes beyond helping veterans after they leave the military. It’s also about ensuring they are supported before their duty begins.
Her advice to the next generation is to have support networks in place at the beginning, to lean on if they are later forced to leave.
Reynell admits “everyone’s discharge story is different”. In her case, she focused on her dogs Layla and Louise, and the realisation there were others who relied on her.
Still, she remembers feeling like she was put “in a box of broken parts” once she was no longer useful to Defence.
“When you leave it can be pretty confronting when you realise that’s it. You don’t really know who you are. I still struggle with who I am and where I’m going,” she says.
“If you build that community before you leave, you’re 15 steps ahead of me.”