The Terror Trap (Department Z Book 7)

by John Creasey

  16 (L-R) Our Granddaughter, Katy, Finnigan, Geoff, and Corbin

  30

  Selah

  Prayer is a marvelous experience. Not only does it bring my own thoughts and feelings into focus; it also helps me clarify them. Is that because you, Lord, give me insight, helping me see “inside” something and then enabling me to see the “broader picture” by giving me perspective? Is the understanding that follows given by you or is it already inside us? Does the act of praying reveal to us what we already know, or do you give us “new” revelation? Whatever the answer is, the fact remains . . . we begin to understand life when we pray. Thank you, Lord, for prayer. ~ DLT diary, March 1996

  The week following Dixie’s final radiation treatment, we go to visit my sister in Wenatchee, a two and one-half hour drive east from our home, over the Cascade Mountains. She has been ill for some time. We pray and say our goodbyes. We know her end of life is nearing. We just don’t know how near. Early the following morning, her daughter, Robin, calls to tell us, “Mom is with Jesus.” We had had the opportunity to say, “goodbye for a while,” to a sister (in-law) who means so much to us in so many ways.

  Newly married and completely broke, she and Earl took us in for the duration while I worked in the surrounding harvests to earn transition money enough to move to Seattle for my junior year at Northwest University. She had helped Dixie learn the nuances of being a wife and mother through conversations and observation. We shared a summer together as a new part of our extended family. We remain forever grateful.

  There follows another trip to attend Nadeen’s memorial service, and a third to be with the family for her interment. These have been precious times of closeness with our extended family, but physically challenging for Dixie. Throughout August, the build back of strength and energy following radiation, for which we had hoped, seems illusive. We will soon understand why.

  Monday 25 August. We return to UWMC for a follow-up visit with Dr. Kim and his team. Two days later we are at SCCA to consult with Dr. Chiorean, and to take Dixie’s first blood draw and CT scan since beginning radiation. The scan results are good, with the exception of one new spot showing in the liver. This will be watched carefully to determine what it represents. However, we are handed a big new challenge, one we had hoped to avoid, something known as Clostridium difficile infection, or “C. diff.”

  When a person takes antibiotics, good germs that protect against infection are destroyed for several months. During this time, patients more easily get sick from C. diff picked up on contaminated surfaces or spread innocently from a health care provider’s hands. This is why everyone keeps washing hands in hospitals. Those most at risk are the patients, especially older adults, who require prolonged use of antibiotics and medical care. Of course, Dixie qualifies on all the above.

  C. diff spores are transferred to patients mainly via the hands of healthcare personnel who have touched a contaminated surface or item. In spite of every precaution it seems stuff happens. The symptoms include loss of appetite, nausea, and abdominal pain/tenderness, all of which have been a part of Dixie’s difficile (Fr., difficult or hard to deal with) these past weeks. Without being able to allow food to nourish properly, her body weight is maintaining, but not gaining. Her energy remains low.

  The C. diff brings all resumption of chemotherapy treatments to an abrupt halt. She cannot continue treatment until the infection is under control. To do so will only exacerbate the problem. During the next several days, she takes metronidazole, an antibiotic that hopefully will prove corrective. One problem with antibiotics used to treat C. diff infection is that the infection returns in about 20 percent of patients. In a small number of these patients, the infection returns over and over and can be quite debilitating. We are praying for complete success with this treatment so she can resume the chemotherapy treatment.

  Our perspective is positive, our attitude good, and our hope as it has always been, is in the Lord. God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore, we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah. ~ Psalm 46:1–3.

  Isn’t that a great thought? Our big deals are little deals to him. No problem at all for our great God. No fear at all for us. Frustration? Anxiety? Yes, but that’s what Selah is all about. Selah is an expression occurring frequently in the Psalms, and it seems no one is quite sure what it means. It is thought to be a liturgical or musical directive, probably by the choral leader to raise the voice or perhaps the indication of a pause while singing the psalm. For me, this word has always been easy to translate. I never understood why Hebrew scholars keep scratching their heads over this one.

  The word translates, “Coffee break.” Of course it does. Pause, think about what you’ve just read; take a sip, sit back, give thanks, listen up . . . God is talking! At least this is the way I see it.

  When we do this, something happens. Something divine. Strength overcomes weakness. Help makes trouble take a back seat. Fox News says, “the seas are roaring.” CNN reports, “falling mountains.” Bad news on all the networks. But the voices carrying bad news fade into silence outside the strong door of Our Refuge as we lean back, give thanks, and listen for his voice . . . in so doing we turn our attention to a different channel.

  Can you hear it? Do you see it?

  Listen up.

  God is talking!

  Selah.

  31

  Perspective

  Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God. ~ Corrie ten Boom

  September. We are reminded once more of the 9/11/2001 attack on America. Thirteen years have come and gone since that terrible day in our nation’s history. While speaking on the telephone with our son, Stephen, following the first tower attack that fateful morning, we watch in horror as the second plane disappears into the remaining tower in a devastating ball of fire. I say to him, “Life will never be the same after today, son.” And it has not been.

  The world continues to be rocked by the Evil One. Precious lives brutalized or murdered at the hands of those possessed by a wanton desire to kill and destroy. It is hard for we who believe every life is a sacred gift from God to fully understand. World leaders are in need of our prayers, as are those of our brothers and sisters who live in constant peril because of their faith. People of any religious faith appear to be targets these days, but it is a documented fact that committed followers of Jesus are the most persecuted people in the world right now.

  Why do I begin this chapter this way? Because we all need perspective to maintain a balance in life. The sun is shining on a beautiful day in our Northwest corner of America. It is quiet and peaceful here. No religious police roaming our streets. No airplanes dropping bombs on our city. Our biggest concern may be traffic on the freeways as workers head home for the weekend or fans make their way to a baseball game tonight. Still, surrounded by much that is good, we live on the edge of an upside down world in which a mega human story with everlasting consequences is being lived out . . . however harrowing or challenging our own life journey may be.

  Perspective. It’s something that helps one avoid being overwhelmed by what we cannot control, while at the same time sorting all relevant data and gaining a realistic mental view of “how then shall we live?” We are more careful than ever about hand washing, if that were possible. Since last Friday, Dixie has been taking metronidazole, an antibiotic designed to be corrective and bring about a complete reversal of the C. diff, infection. Who knew such a small thing as washing hands or sterilizing table space around one’s plate would take on such importance?

  Today, she undergoes a blood draw and an MRI to get a clearer read on things. Her blood work is okay, but the MRI reveals the spot in question from her earlier CT scan is still there. It has increased in size during the intervening time period. This is not the ne
ws for which we had hoped. It is actually the worst kind of news. It appears the original cancer cells may have metastasized after all, forming a secondary tumor in the liver.

  We are to return to UWMC on Wednesday at 6:30 in the morning for more blood work and admitting procedures. There, Dixie will undergo another liver biopsy. The procedure itself is about an hour, but she must remain for most of the day under observation, in similar fashion as her earlier procedure last April. It isn’t the most pleasant way for one to spend the day. Dixie is weary. The hoped for “light at the end of the treatment tunnel” has eluded us for now. We need fresh perspective.

  According to Webster’s Dictionary, “Perspective is the art of drawing solid objects on a two-dimensional surface so as to get the correct view of their height, width, depth and position in relation to each other when viewed from a particular point. It is also a particular attitude toward something; a point of view; a true understanding of the relative importance of things; a sense of proportion.”

  They say the most important thing when flying is not the plane’s altitude, but its attitude. Each airplane (or spacecraft) has an attitude indicator. This instrument informs the pilot of the orientation of the aircraft to the earth’s horizon. If when coming down the nose is too far up, the landing will be hard and bumpy at best. If it remains pointed too far down, a disaster is in the offing.

  Perspective. The way we view things is important. The place from which we view things is important. Just how high, wide and deep are the objects before us? Our present viewpoint is clear, though we can see only as far as today. Dixie’s attitude is true, though life’s wind shears and uncertain weather makes each day’s landing more difficult. Our hope and strength is God, in whom we trust.

  It’s a battle out there, in whatever direction you want to point. It’s a battle in here, too, where we live and move and have our being. We cannot tell for sure who will win the battles out there. We can be positive who will win the battles in here.

  So we give thanks.

  It’s what you do when you can do nothing else. Let your attitude be healthy. Hold the flag of faith high. Take a victory lap. Remind yourself of the verse your mother marked in the Bible she gave you when you were just seventeen and headed off to a college two thousand miles away.

  And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Christ Jesus. ~ Philippians 1:6

  32

  When Setbacks Come

  Where is God? How does he act. Why doesn’t he do something? Common questions my heart asks you, Lord. You have shown me yourself . . . you are here, all around me. Your presence fills the earth. You are never far away.

  You have chosen to act through people. Yet without your presence moving to the inside of us, we are powerless to allow you to work through us. However, you never invade, you only come in by invitation.

  Why don’t you do something?

  You won’t because I won’t. People fail to realize that we thwart your action by choosing to be ignorant or disobedient and even outright rebellious to your great acts of love and caring.

  Where are you?

  You are here in this room all around me.

  How do you act?

  You have chosen to act through me today.

  Then why don’t you do something?

  You do . . . you are continuously drawing me to yourself, prompting me to good deeds, kind words, to loving even rebellious people.

  Lord, help me today to allow people to “see” you through me. ~ DLT diary, September 1990

  Wednesday 17 September. Dixie returns to UWMC, with Michele and me along for moral support. And to bring her coffee. We arrive early in the morning and are there most of the day for this biopsy. The first one in April proved to be negative. We are hopeful this will be the same. It is mid afternoon by the time we arrive home and settle in. Waiting for the results we know may take several days. Waiting is never fun.

  Each day of waiting is a challenge for Dixie, with ongoing bouts of nausea and the lack of energy. Days are spent mostly reading, with naps interspersed.

  Thursday 24 September. Dixie and I arrive at SCCA at one o’clock in the afternoon. Her first appointment involves a port blood draw. Shortly after 2 o’clock, Dr. Elizabeth, the oncologist filling in for Dr. Chiorean today, informs us our worst fears have come true. The results are positive. The original tumor has metastasized to the liver. One or more of the nodes, now removed, leading from the original tumor has already been a pathway for our Enemy Cancer to slip behind the battle lines to yet another organ. Until now, it has remained in hiding. No more. Now it is discovered.

  It is a disappointing setback. Huge! Just when it looks as though the end is in sight, suddenly it is not. As if this is not enough bad news for the day, it is feared that the infection C. diff may have come back. More tests will confirm yes or no on this.

  It is a recalculate moment. If you have a GPS in your car, you’ve surely experienced going past the intersection you were supposed to turn on. Once you go by, somehow it knows and a voice says, “Recalculate.” Immediately a new plan is designed to get you back on track toward your destination. That’s what Dr. Chiorean is now putting in motion. It’s time for a heavy sigh.

  At a point in which it seems things cannot be more depressing, two dear friends, Bob and Char Pagett, co-founders and president of Assist International, come to our city and take us to dinner at one of Dixie’s favorite restaurants, having driven all the way from Bend, Oregon, just to be with us.

  For four precious hours we push aside the devastating reports and the cares that threaten like dark rain clouds in order to share stories and pictures, catch up, laugh until tears come, remembering our nearly fifty years of sharing life and ministry, children the same ages, friends, victories and disappointments together. Cold dark nights on trains in foreign lands. Being threatened and robbed. Sloshing on wet carpets with live bugs in seedy hotels in post-revolution Bucharest, Romania. Water pouring through the roof onto my bed in the middle of the night in Jinja, Uganda. It all comes back to us now and we laugh at our adventures and close calls.

  Twenty-five years before, we had added to our day jobs as pastors the beginning of what is now Assist International. Grimy nights in a borrowed Bay Area warehouse (everything was borrowed in those days), refurbishing and packing medical equipment and supplies we had earlier begged from hospitals and other sources. We recall our younger years, leading and speaking at youth camps and conferences, living in cabins and hotel rooms, traveling on buses, trains and planes, and the countless tennis matches we played, all shared over many years; gone but not forgotten. Grand experiences, tempered by mutual heartbreaks. The loss of their sweet daughter. Our first grandson we hardly knew but cannot forget. Life and death. All part of the relationship we treasure and hold close to our hearts.

  Encouraging moments of prayer together bring the evening to a close. As they prepare to leave, we put our arms around each other and shake our heads in amazement. It has been just what we need as we prepare for the week before us. And the week after that. What perfect timing. Friends have become more precious than ever at this turning in our sacred journey.

  God attending to the smallest details of life.

  33

  Uncharted Territory

  Strengthen me, Lord. I feel weak and inadequate and very tired.

  Thank you for your daily strength. ~ DLT diary, January 2013

  Tuesday 30 September. At 8:45, Dixie and I are crossing over Lake Washington to SCCA. No blood draw today. Instead it is straight up to F5 and the Infusion Center. This will be Dixie’s first chemo treatment since early this summer, before radiation; the pairing of Gemcitabine with Cisplatin, a powerful platinum based drug, will be the combination administered every other week for three months.

  17 The SR520 Lake Washington Floating Bridge

  Chemotherapy is often given as a combination of drugs. Combinations may work better than single drugs be
cause different drugs kill cancer cells in different ways. However, the potential side-effects are commensurate in strength, so we have to address them as well. These treatments will take the full day each time they are administered.

  Dr. Chiorean will consult with Dr. Park as to a possible resection of the liver tumor at the end of chemotherapy. If that becomes the course of action, it will likely not take place until after Christmas. Sometimes in the midst of it all it is hard to keep one’s prayer focus. This is one more reason the prayers and encouragement of others are so invaluable.

  The eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms.

  ~ Deuteronomy 33:27

  (Dixie’s special verse)

  Kevin, a specially trained nurse, is overseeing today’s treatment. Since it is a regimen that can easily damage the kidneys, a prerequisite as well as a post flushing out treatment must be done, adding another couple of hours to the already lengthy process. An anti-nausea drug is also part of the chemo cocktail, designed to last three days. Altogether her treatment takes six hours.

  C. diff infection has returned with a vengeance, plus another infection as well. Two different antibiotics are on tap this week for these. We return home with a half dozen new or refill prescriptions in hand. During her treatments, the prescription list is a living thing, constantly changing with whatever is happening in the moment.

  The list of medications for this October include:

  •Anti-nausea and Vomiting Medications

  oDexamethasone (Decadron) 4 mg – one tablet by mouth 2 times a day for 3 days after chemo

  oOndansetron (Zofran) 8 mg – one tablet by mouth every 4 to 6 hours as needed after 3 days from chemo

  oOmeprazole 20 mg – one capsule by mouth twice daily

  oProchlorperazine (Compazine) 10 mg