The Great Outdoors

Ross Foote and Sheila McGuirk show how life with an ostomy can be full of adventure.

by Tony Farrell

They’d packed up their tents, stored all their food, and strapped on their hiking boots. Then Ross Foote gathered the 12 Boy Scouts of Troop 10 together to get everything out in the open before they set out on their 11-day trek through Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico.

I’ve had ostomy surgery, he told them, and I wear a special appliance that could get caught or pulled by bulky backpacking gear. He laid it on the line by giving them a choice. “If you want me to carry a full pack,” he explained, “I’ll have to leave the bag exposed.”

Then Foote threw in the kicker: “But that means we’ll be the only scout troop on the mountain led by a bag of poop.”

The scouts roared, and Foote, in true scouting style, snatched glory from the jaws of embarrassment. “They were just immediately enthralled with the whole concept,” laughs Foote. “After all, what is the most powerful humor for 14-year-old boys but fart jokes?”

Climbing Back

By the time Foote, a retired 52-year-old Alexandria, LA, judge and lifelong scouting supporter, journeyed to Philmont in 2002, he was only 18 months past surgery for rectal cancer. But as determined as he was to hang on to his good humor and positive outlook, Foote also knew that he had something serious to prove to friends, family, and in particular, his younger son, David, now 16, who made the trip to Philmont with him.

“I just needed to reassure him that daddy is not going to die,” says Foote, “and that there’s nothing I can’t do now that I used to do.” With that, he began to prove just what he could do.

Foote threw himself back into all the high-energy outdoor activities he had always loved, including tennis, snow skiing, and waterskiing. He grabbed a boogie board and went bodysurfing with his boys. And at the scout ranch, he even joined the rest of the troop for Philmont’s ultimate physical test: making the steep, rocky climb to the summit of 11,739-foot Mt. Phillips and crossing the Tooth of Time.

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Making a Fresh Start

Everyone living with an ostomy knows that the day you begin living with a stoma your old life ends and your new life begins. For Sheila McGuirk, life with a stoma only lasted 3 months once she underwent a complete proctocolectomy after being diagnosed with colon cancer in 1996. Surgeons created a temporary ileostomy to give an internal ileal pouch they had constructed time to heal, then took down the stoma once they decided that the internal pouch was ready to take over.

Before having nearly her entire digestive system removed, McGuirk, a 52-year-old professor of veterinary medicine at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, loved to hike and ice-skate but was already seeing her exercise time dwindle as her three young children took up more and more of her time. But her surgery, her temporary stoma, and her new status as a cancer survivor inspired McGuirk to get back outdoors and start fresh. “Afterward, I made a special effort,” she says. “I got up earlier. I made sure to have time for my own health and my own activity. I think it was part of my resolve to take control, and perhaps by taking control, to put cancer worries for me at bay.”

McGuirk was so inspired that only 5 days after her initial ileostomy, she tucked her appliance into her athletic shorts and went on a bike ride with her husband and children. Every fall since, she and her family have stuck to a regimen of weekly 3-mile hikes. And in October 2004, McGuirk took on the ultimate physical and emotional challenge. She was selected from a pool of more than 1,000 applicants to join the 20-member Bristol-Myers Squibb Tour of Hope team and ride her bicycle cross-country from Los Angeles to Washington, DC, sharing experiences with other cancer survivors and spreading the word about the need for clinical cancer research.

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Following the Learning Curve

Even though Foote and McGuirk both insisted on charging out the door and into nature once they started living with stomas, each found the need to observe a certain “learning curve” as they got back to the sports they loved best. It took Foote a dozen ocean waves—and two dislocated appliances—to realize he needed a longer board and different posture to get the hang of bodysurfing again. McGuirk quickly became aware of the various “speed times” between eating certain foods and needing to find a restroom while out on her bike.

In the end, though, seeing their new lives through the eyes of children gave both of them the passion to keep biting off big chunks of the great outdoors. For McGuirk, cleaning her temporary stoma was always a top priority after a hike or a ride—much to the fascination of her kids. Often she would simply retire to the basement bathroom for some privacy. “It was the one bathroom where I could go and not have three pairs of eyes trying to see what happens with mom!” she laughs.

Once Ross Foote showed the scouts of Troop 10 just how far an old guy with a stoma could go on a back-country trail, he began offering advice to others living with an ostomy back home. Then one day Foote received an e-mail from a Boy Scout living in New Jersey who had heard about his outdoor ability and success. The boy, age 15, had just recently endured a permanent colostomy and now wondered what the future might have in store for him. How will I live with this, the young scout wrote despondently. What will my life be like?

Foote, ever the scout leader, gently lays it on the line for everyone living with an ostomy: You’ve been given a new life. Don’t let anything hold you back. There’s a mountain out there just waiting for you to climb it. And if I can do it, you can, too.

Health and fitness writer Tony Farrell is a regular contributor to health & vitality^® magazine.

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Keeping it fun. Be prepared. Pack out your trash. Always watch what you eat. Whether you’re a Boy Scout, a cross-country cyclist, or just someone with a perpetual love of the great outdoors, these are always words to live by. Here are five other tips from Ross Foote and Sheila McGuirk on how to get the most out of an outdoor adventure. Choose the right appliance. For water sports, use a one or two-piece appliance (ideally a closed-end pouch) that does not have a vent. A pouch with a filtered vent allows water to enter and slosh around. For cold-weather activities like skiing, vented bags allow you to monitor gas buildup as well as keep the appliance close to the skin. In the cold, it’s helpful to use an appliance with a comfort-wear panel to relieve the effects of sweat on skin. For longer excursions, pre-bag adhesive remover and protective barrier wipes, paste, seals, and replacement appliances separately for each change-out. Experiment with clothing. Appliances can be held in place by most good athletic wear, such as bicycling pants and stretch underwear. Moisture-wicking materials such as lycra keep skin cool and sweat buildup to a minimum. Clean up frequently. Sweat is your enemy in the outdoors. Especially in dry climates, your clothing may not feel damp, but you still sweat under your appliance’s adhesive patch. Inspect yourself regularly, and clean and dry yourself as soon as you finish any outdoor activity to prevent bacteria or other irritations from causing problems near your stoma. Keep track of the time. Be careful if your stoma is active. Water sports or other activities that might call for an unvented bag can invite unwanted gas expansion. Plan ahead by avoiding troublesome foods or caffeine if you’ll be far from a restroom for long periods. Tune in to your body. Try an activity gently before revving up to full speed. If you find your appliance interfering with movement—or feel signs of internal stress—modify your technique to relieve the affected area.

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