Caching Through Cancer Although some people will remember President Bill Clinton as a scandal-scarred philanderer I like to think of him as the father of fun. With the stroke of his pen he removed Selective Availability from the Global Positioning System (GPS) and thus unintentionally gave birth to the game of geocaching. Beginning at 12:01 AM on May 2, 2000 anyone with a GPS unit could get dramatically improved accuracy so they could hide containers for other folks to hunt. As for me, my geocaching career began in the sultry summer of 2007 and I quickly became an addict. Before I knew it I was grabbing roughly 100 caches a month.
Fortunately, several brilliant local addicts came up with the idea to create a series of daily Flash Mobs events. A flash mob is basically a group of people summoned to a designated location at a specified time to perform an indicated action before dispersing. In the case of geocaching, attending a flash mob event is synonymous with finding a geocache. This meant completing the 31-day challenge was now within my grasp. Do you remember that crazy cornfield song “"Gloom, Despair and Agony On Me" from the show Hee-Haw? They sang, “If it weren't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all!” That is exactly how I felt in the month of May. After discovering blood in my urine I paid a visit to my local urologist who discovered I had a strawberry size tumor in my bladder. My emotions raged between shock, fear, sadness, anxiety and anger. I felt like a plant uprooted. I had never smoked or worked around chemicals, so why me? Geocaching instantly became my lowest priority. My urologist informed me the best course of action was outpatient resection surgery. I tried this procedure only to receive more bad news. The tumor was found to be malignant and could not be completely removed. Furthermore, my urologist said the inside of my bladder looked like someone had splattered it with paint. Dozens and dozens of smaller tumors were everywhere.
My wife and soul mate Terry (geocaching name Mrs. Amazing) is a brilliant woman. She has wisdom that goes far beyond her years. Seeing my despair she not only encouraged me to take on the 31-day challenge, but let me know she would be there to help me achieve it. I was pretty skeptical, but she was confidently optimistic. The first eleven days of the challenge were pretty uneventful. Our first obstacle came on August 12. We needed to arise at 3:30 AM, drive from Dayton to Columbus and report for surgery at 5:00 AM. When would we have time to grab a cache? Believe it or not, at 4:50 AM a mere two blocks away from the James Cancer Center with the apprehension of cancer and surgery looming over our heads we hunted for a cache. We could not have picked a better one as it was entitled, “Hope” (GCVPCC). My Syrian-born surgeon successfully removed the rest of the large tumor and the dozens and dozens of smaller ones. The procedure should have taken an hour and a half, but in my prolific case it stretched to two and a half hours. There was so much cutting, scraping and cauterizing that I was kept overnight. My surgeon stopped by my room to report his success, but also to deliver a dark cloud. “Your cancer was so prolific that there is a 70-80 percent chance it will return.” When I was released from the James Cancer Center the next day I felt like death warmed over. I was in pain, very uncomfortable and had a compelling desire to get home. Mrs. Amazing gently whispered we should grab a nearby cache on the way. I declined. Mrs. Amazing said (as she has so many times in my married life) that a big task always breaks down into a series of smaller steps. In this case, we could take the first step by checking out the cache location. If it proved too difficult we would stop the hunt. If not then we would continue to the next step of looking for it. We used her laptop to gain a satellite view of the nearby caches and found a potential candidate. As we neared the location we discovered it was inside a gated staff parking lot. I must admit her determination brought a smile to my tired face. She boldly drove….through..…the…..exit! Our GeoMobile came to rest at a classic light pole hide and Mrs. Amazing brought the container to the window so I could sign the log. I was deeply moved. One of the most evil medical torture devices ever devised is the Foley catheter. At home my every step was painful and also caused the attached leg bag to slosh loudly and uncomfortably. I was also having significant nausea and horrific bladder spasms. There are other gory details I could give here, but some things are better left unsaid. I was home now and had no desire to move much less leave. Needless to say, I was in no mood for geocaching. Again Mrs. Amazing gently whispered. She patiently repeated everything was a step. If at any point it got too much we would bail out. She put on my socks and shoes, helped me get to my feet, walked beside me to the GeoMobile, and gently slid me into the passenger side. Enroute to the cache my surgical site felt pain at every bump, pothole and curve the road had to offer. Mrs. Amazing drove slowly and cautiously. After 30 minutes we reached our destination. Experiencing both pain and nausea I slowly and carefully extracted myself from the car and sloshed my way to the cache’s hiding place. By the time I got there Mrs. Amazing had the container in hand. This became our daily routine and I will admit each hunt lifted my spirits. Eventually, Mrs. Amazing went back to work. When she returned home each evening we would drive the minimum of an hour round trip to snag our cache of the day. One evening I was especially tired, sick to my stomach and extremely sore so I forcefully declared I was done with the challenge. Again Mrs. Amazing gently whispered. I reluctantly went through our now familiar routine and groused all the way to the cache site. Being so out of sorts I chose to stay in the GeoMobile while she hunted. God has an incredible sense of humor. After Mrs. Amazing spent 10 fruitless minutes searching I got out of the vehicle and made the find in just a few minutes. On the way home, I quietly admitted I was glad we did it. Two of the days provided unique challenges. Mrs. Amazing could only come home from work for about 45 minutes before leaving for evening meetings. This would not leave enough time to grab a cache. What was I to do? Well, some geocaches are called mystery caches. They require you to solve a puzzle to obtain the cache’s coordinates. I looked at a few nearby puzzles and reaffirmed I am the world’s worst solver. As I sat and pondered puzzles an old Boy Scouting adult leader training skill came to mind. “Know your resources.” So I selected two of the closest puzzles and looked to see who solved them. Two names were very familiar - osubrownsfan and Grey-n-Red. I contacted them and they quickly responded with assistance. They too became a vital part in helping me get one step closer to completing the 31-day challenge.
As we approached our goal I began searching for a noteworthy milestone. I knew it when I saw it - Alcatraz (GC35N51). We began doing research and making plans. This geocache would require us to wade to the middle of the Great Miami River and then climb upon a pair of boulders to hunt for the container.
It would be great if the story ended here, but it didn’t. Knowing the cancer would probably return cast a long dark shadow in my life. Ultimately the surgeon gave me two choices, the most promising of which would be letting him gut me like a fish. He emphasized this would be major major surgery. No, that isn’t a typo. He used the word “major” twice. Recovery would be long and slow. I asked a bizzilion questions, talked it over with my wife, prayed, researched, read blogs and watched YouTube videos. Reluctantly, I decided to go under the knife. On the eve of the surgery we stayed in a hotel near the hospital. We went geocaching, but my heart really wasn’t into it. I had a horrible night’s sleep. At 5:00 AM on October 28 we reported to the hospital’s admitting ward. I was somewhat numb with fear. Waking up in the ICU was one of the most traumatic events of my life. The anesthesiologist decided to intubate me once I was asleep. When I awoke from surgery I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t move my hands. I thought I was going to die. Seeing I was awake the nurse removed my intubation tube and untied my hands. I began to relax. I wish I could say it was all rainbows and beautiful sunsets after that. However, patient hospitalized can be very grueling. Nurses and PCAs wake you at all times of the day and night to perform triage, take blood, clean wounds, jab you with needles, check blood pressure, cut your fingers for blood sugar tests, start IVs, empty drains, give pills, change beds, replace batteries, ad nauseum. Technicians roust you to perform a wide variety of tests such as x-rays and CAT scans. There were crack of dawn visits from urologists, residents, interns, surgeons, clergymen, nurses and dieticians. To add to my misery I had roommates who were stricken with brain cancer. Their shenanigans made me feel like I was a resident in a mental ward. Even something as simple as turning over in bed at night was a major undertaking since I had more tubes in me then a Soviet spacecraft. I was grateful that my wife had agreed to remain with me 24/7 during my entire hospital stay.
Armed with this information and my iPhone’s geocaching app she walked out of the hospital in search of the closest cache. She found “Barbell Curls Are For The Girls” (GC1MWYV) quickly and brought it back to the ICU so I could sign the log sheet. As I used the laptop to log the “find” online she returned the container to its original hiding place and then walked backed. And so began our daily routine - find the nearest caches on the laptop, give Mrs. Amazing an overview and off she'd go. I loved listening to her hunting stories, viewing the pictures she took as well as getting the day’s weather report. It was the one thing I always looked forward to each day. The more you geocache in an area the less you can geocache in that area. Each day she had to walk further and further from the hospital in pursuit of a find. Many of her online logs contained an apology for putting the container out of commission for an extended period of time. Several of the cache owners sent her emails saying to take all the time she needed. Her geocaching experiences broadened as well and I recall one wonderful hunt where she stayed for over a half hour to watch the OSU marching band rehearse their performance in Halloween costumes. Some nights as I struggled to find sleep I would recall our shared adventures and tear up at the thought of the powerful love Mrs. Amazing showed for me.
By the time we were released from the hospital Mrs. Amazing was burning up five miles worth of shoe leather for each find. When we left the hospital, we both savored the joy of an easy park and grab on the way home. As she pulled into the driveway I had her stop the car. I uttered the word, “home” and the next thing I knew I was sobbing. I now fully understood the incredible power of Dorothy’s simple words, “There’s no place like home.” The next day I was overjoyed to find a few new geocaches had sprung up close to home. Again Mrs. Amazing bundled me up and loaded me into the GeoMobile. Our dogs Max and Indy were in tow making it quite the outing. It was so wonderful to se Unfortunately, my escape from the hospital was only temporary. Due to abysses I had to be readmitted to the hospital two different times for five days each. My evening temperatures would soar to 103 degrees and I would cry out as the nurse packed me in ice. To drain the abyss I was sent into surgery where continuous CAT scans would direct the surgeon’s drill. On one of the occasions the surgeon nicked a blood vessel which caused slow internal bleeding and ultimately anemia. Each time I returned home Mrs. Amazing would boost my morale by taking me out for an easy cache or two. Although some geocachers detest the easy “park and grab” type caches I will admit in my condition it was just what the doctor ordered. As the days marched on I began to grow stronger and watched most of my surgical complications melt away. I needed home health care and since Mrs. Amazing had learned from the nurses all the required techniques she continued to be an angel on my shoulder. Except for her brief geocaching departures in the hospital she was by my side 24 hours a day for 5 straight weeks. Yes, 5 straight weeks.
Remembering the words of Rocky Balboa, "It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over" we decided go through with our summer vacation plans. On three separate trips, we visited 18 states and snagged hundreds of geocaches. In Nevada alone we did 66 geocaches on the Extra Terrestrial Highway in 103 degree temperatures. On October 30, 2014 I accompanied Mrs. Amazing to Sycamore State Park to assist her in placing a geocache entitled “Celebrating Life.” This simple peanut butter jar cache commemorated our first anniversary cancer free as well as the mammoth struggles we endured together. After climbing 46 wooden steps and walking a third of a mile we came to a beautiful overlook complete with a wooden bench. If you had told me a year ago I would be doing this hike I would have called you a liar. The riot of fall colors, the sound of gurgling stream below, the warm breeze on my face, the rustle of leaves under my dog's feet and the warmth of my wife's presence made me almost burst with gratitude. It felt great to be alive. With a song in our hearts we took a selfie and placed the container nearby. There are those who think geocaching is simply an electronic scavenger hunt. This will never be true for me. It's about fun and friendships, support and the celebration of life. As one who walked a difficult path I can safely say it was a bright ray of hope in a dark place.
Mrs. Amazing and SM325 at "Celebrating Life" |
In June of 2013 
In an effort to get me the best care possible my urologist sent me to Ohio State University’s James Cancer Center. At “The James” I met with one of their most skilled surgeons who believed he could successfully perform the same procedure. We scheduled the outpatient resection surgery for August 12. Any flicker of hope I had for doing the 31-day challenge was now gone.
On August 21 I went back to work and resumed lunchtime geocaching. I alternated days of going solo or with Ed the Navigator who coddled me like an injured baby chick. On one of my lunch hour solo trips I had to pee about every ten minutes (a by product of the surgery) and made a total of five rest room stops. However, I got stronger with each passing day and even made it to one of the Flash Mobs (Disney photo shoot - GC4GYE8).
August 31 turned out to be a great day as the temperatures were up and the water level and flow rate were down. Mrs. Amazing and I walked out to “the rock” hand in hand, while Starrycacher and our dogs Max and Indy served as spotters. Mrs. Amazing easily scrambled onto the large boulder, but I lost my balance and received a proper baptism. Once I scampered onto the boulder we spent a little time searching for the container and as is typically the case Mrs. Amazing found the hide. As I signed the log I felt a lump in my throat, a tear in my eye and a sense of hope in my heart. 
Mrs. Amazing has wisdom beyond her years. She knew my hospitalization would be physically and emotionally challenging. She had a morale-boosting plan. On my second full day in ICU she handed me her laptop and told me to find the nearest geocache plus two back-ups. Once I selected them she had me study the cache descriptions, previous “found it” logs and aerial views and give her an overview briefing. 
e the bright yellow sun and feel winter's icy cold hands on my face. At “ghs stopped to fill some jugs” (GC4NW6E) Mrs. Amazing got out of the GeoMobile and asked, "Do you want me to find it?" Of course she found it in the first place she looked. 
Later geocaching jaunts helped to define and highlight my successful recovery: my first work lunchtime geocache with Ed the Navigator, first full day excursion (seven hours and 23 geocaches), first geo-biking trek (8 miles and 13 caches) and first terrain 3 (scrambled under a bridge, climbed up on the concrete footer and duck walked under multiple girders). I even conquered the two mile hike, terrain 4.5 earth cache Devil's Gulch (GC4B1MW) at Red River Gorge Kentucky. Mrs. Amazing and another friend gave me words of encouragement the whole way. I paid a steep price as the descent beat the crap out of me and left me in pain for the next three days.