The Terror Trap (Department Z Book 7) Read online

  Happy Thanksgiving!

  39

  Doctors Treat . . . Jesus Heals

  Kenya Africa’s Tenwek Hospital is a Christian medical community. Their motto, “We Treat—Jesus Heals,” is Tenwek’s guiding belief and the hope that is offered to each patient.

  We treat.

  First Thursday 4 December. The day gets under way at 5 o’clock at Starbucks. Today Michele and I talk about our recent family Thanksgiving celebration; four generations enjoying one another in a beautiful Northwest island home. We experience sun, rain, snow and a powerful windstorm, all within four days, a picture of our today lives, painted by God’s hand from nature’s palette.

  And we talk about her brother, Stephen, Nancy and Jesse. They are flying home from Hong Kong on the 19th and will be with us until early the 24th, when they go on to celebrate Christmas with Nancy’s side of the family in Tennessee. Her parents are retired missionaries. Our granddaughter, Jessica, will fly in from Denver to be with us as well. We are excited to see them again. Especially all at the same time. A rare treat for us.

  The FOLFOX treatment scenario is new. The doctor describes it to us as like “bringing in the Marines.” It is designed for a heavy jolt that hopefully decreases, or at least holds at status quo the liver tumor that doubled in size during the last two months of chemotherapy. At the same time, it should arrest whatever else may be happening in her lungs, where some spots yet too small to biopsy are showing an increase in size. We pray for minimum side effects and maximum punch on the liver tumor and lung activity. This chemotherapy is a bag full of heavy duty stuff!

  Fluorouracil (F-5) is a chemotherapy drug used to treat a variety of cancers. Oxaliplatin is a chemotherapy agent used to treat cancers of the colon, as well as other types of cancers. Leucovorin is used to “rescue” normal (non-cancerous) cells and increase the anti-cancer effects of Fluorouracil. Whoa, the Marines really have landed!

  After all is done, an ambulatory infusion pump is attached to Dixie’s port to maintain the chemotherapy infusion process after we are home. She will carry this with her at all times, even to bed. The infusion of the drugs will continue non-stop until 4:30pm, Saturday, when we return to SCCA and the pump is disconnected. We are shown how to operate the pump and how to handle accidental chemotherapy spills or tubing leaks. We’ve even been given an action plan in case of an emergency or natural disaster while attached to the pump. It sounds like an all-or-nothing Normandy-style invasion. The Marines are fighting back. We are grateful, but anxious at the same time.

  Nurse Deb is assigned to Dixie for this infusion. She brings another nurse in to meet her. She says the nurses all are talking about how Dixie is the “youngest woman,” given her actual age, they have ever known. Deb asks questions. How long have you been married? Really? That long with the right person must be wonderful. It hasn’t always been smooth and easy, Deb, but yes, we made it through the hard times and today it is the best! Children? Grandchildren? Great-grandchildren! Are you serious? I listen quietly to their conversation. The nurse smiles at last and says to Dixie, “You have a rich life!”

  We’ve been with SCCA doctors, nurses and techs since early this afternoon. We have two or three more hours before we get out of here and head home. Long day, but it’s true. We have indeed a very rich life. Not simply in things, but in what really matters. Through good times and bad.

  Jesus heals.

  Our ‘rich life’ is made richer still as we wend our way on this long journey through the Valley of Shadows, a journey we know will end before we want it to. When one surrenders his/her life to the Lord, it means we go where he wants, for as long as he wants, do whatever he wants, and wait patiently when we are done for his next call. The Captain of our souls is our true north. This is how we choose to live.

  And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” ~Matthew 4:19

  40

  Merry Christmas!

  “ . . . And you shall call his name JESUS.” You were uniquely named by your Father, and sent with a mission to fulfill . . . “for he shall save his people from their sins.” Your very name was a reminder to everyone who spoke to you that you were a wonderful gift to them; but somehow, even in your short life as a man, that truth was lost.

  No wonder in our modern day, names are lost; their meanings forgotten, overlooked or ignored. The Cheers television series was popular because at Cheers, “Everybody knows your name.” The lovers in the movie, Children of a Lesser God, were hurting because he just wanted his deaf and speech-impaired lover to say his name. How hungry people are today to “make a name for themselves,” or simply to be called by their name.

  Thank you, Father, for knowing my name. You have written it in your Book of Life, because Jesus fulfilled his purpose. He fulfilled the meaning of his name.

  On this day I can say the name “Jesus” and understand “Savior!”

  ~ DLT diary, Christmas 1995

  For eleven days, the FOLFOX infusion trio, Fluorouracil (F-5), Oxaliplatin, and Leucovorin, have been at work, searching out Enemy Cancer cells and destroying them wherever they can be found. However, as with precise bombing or rocket fire tactics designed to take out enemy killers, innocent cells going about their normal life-serving duties are also destroyed. Tagged as collateral damage, it is the calculated cost of this never-ending deadly warfare.

  Regretfully, Wednesday is a bad day. She is dressed and standing at the door, ready to attend a C3 Leaders Forum Christmas dinner, when she looks up at me and says quietly, “I’m sorry. I just can’t do it.” I help her back upstairs and into bed. Once I am sure she is comfortable, since I am the group leader, I attend the dinner alone.

  Friday is better. She visits the annual Christmas party in our condo community, where residents who truly love her and are glad to see her, surround her. She enjoys the evening, eventually leaving early, savoring the human touches and sounds of warm goodbyes, then returning to our apartment, fatigued from giving out so much of her depleted energy reserve, but exhilarated from feeding off the friendships of good neighbors.

  Life changes on a daily, sometimes hourly basis for us now. Going forward in the weeks, months and years ahead, we choose to give to our time together as much love and attention as is possible to do. It has been fifteen months since beginning a medical search for an elusive “something is wrong” problem; ten months since the dreadful diagnosis launching surgery, radiation and now, her third round of chemotherapy, which we expect to continue at least until the end of January. She remains as active as strength will allow, with weakness and fatigue increasing each day. Late in January, fresh scans are to be taken and we will know whether or not this chemo round is working and to what extent.

  20 GG and great-grandson, Corbin

  We are grateful for thousands of prayers directed to the ear of God, as well as the best medical resources we could hope for; we are also realists, understanding we are a very small part of our Lord’s grand scheme. Whatever is ahead, his will in all areas of our lives remains the main thing. We are not anxious. We are at peace in our Lord’s promises. He is forever trustworthy and we are trusting in him. We are confident he hears our prayers. No question.

  God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. ~ Psalm 46:1

  Christmas! For much of our married life, we’ve lived at significant distances from our parents, siblings, children and extended family members. Special holidays like Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas have not been celebrated with all these primary family members present, but with the cherished people we love and serve in our congregations and elsewhere throughout the world, who continue to be our family in Christ. This is also a reality for many of our colleagues and their families with similar callings and responsibilities as ours. If it’s true in your church this year, it is a gift. Enjoy your pastors or priests; tell them how much they are loved and be blessed in so doing.

  This year for us will be different, with our
children, grandchildren, great-grandson (with #2 on the way), together on the weekend before Christmas, a rarity since we live so geographically spread apart ~ providing us with many looked forward delightful moments. Those from far away will arrive on Friday to link up with our Northwest family.

  Merry Christmas!

  41

  The Greatest Small Gift

  In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ~ John 1:1

  Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall call his name Immanuel (which means, God with us). ~ Matthew 1:23

  And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. ~ Luke 2:7

  And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. ~ John 1:14

  These four simple, yet incredibly profound verses describe the “greatest small gift ever given to mankind.” It is the reason Dixie and I celebrate this Christmas. It isn’t simply that we believe God is great (he’d have to be to put this universe in motion, would he not?). Nor is it that he may possibly be out there somewhere looking with disinterest upon all he has created. It’s because we believe he loves enough to be omnipresent among us all, to identify with what and with whom he has created, to offer up the greatest gift in a tiny, helpless person . . . the gift of his presence.

  Thursday 18 December. Before Christmas week, we arrive at SCCA for a blood draw, followed by an appointment with Dr. Chiorean. Our long term patient / doctor relationship has by now morphed into more of a symbiotic association, a mutual interaction between different individuals linked together by a common problem.

  As our appointment nears its end, I ask the question that has lingered in my mind, “Doctor, you have set up an appointment for us with Palliative Care. It feels as though you may be moving us from curative more toward comfort care. We need to know. Is this the direction in which you are thinking?”

  “No, no, not at all,” her reply comes quickly. “Often people hear palliative care and imagine the cancer or heart patient, or whatever the long term illness is being made comfortable in an end-of-life hospice type setting. Palliative care is quite different. It is an emerging new medical specialty in the last few years . . . and no, as good as hospice is, it’s not the same.

  “Palliative care doesn’t serve only patients in the final stages. Instead, it focuses more broadly on improving life and providing comfort to people of all ages with serious chronic and life-threatening illnesses. In short, this new medical specialty aims to improve one’s quality of life, however you define that for yourself. Your palliative care providers work with you to identify and carry out goals having to do with symptom relief, counseling, and spiritual comfort; in other words, whatever enhances your quality of life.”

  “Thank you,” I reply. “That’s helpful to hear. We’ve been at this so intently and for so long now, we are beginning to wonder when there will be a light at the end of this tunnel.”

  Dr. Chiorean continues, “This may help. I’ve also spoken with Dr. Park. He remains open to the possibility of liver surgery, providing we see sufficient improvement from this current chemotherapy series. But you can receive palliative care while at the same time pursuing other treatments for your illness. We are hopeful FOLFOX will help us turn the corner. If it does not, there are other possibilities to consider, including a clinical trial in which some good results have been reported.”

  I counter with, “Numerous other non-medical suggestions have been offered up by friends. Some report good results. What do you think?”

  “Bring to our attention anything you want us to look at, please. Many of our modern medical treatments have their origins in plants and in nature’s other curative elements. We will be happy to consider alternative treatments with you, in addition to what we normally work with, and will go over them with you carefully.”

  Later on, while undergoing the infusion treatment on F5 Bay15, we discuss what we have heard from the doctor. After reflecting, we agree. It is not so much “what” was said as “how” she said it. It was her tone, her attitude that left us feeling more positive than we have been for awhile. Was it a sense of false hope being offered up, or a reaffirming belief that she and others at the clinic are doing their very best, studying, thinking ahead, consulting together interdisciplinary? We are not sure, but of this we are certain. She has given us the greatest small gift . . . the gift of her presence.

  In truth, nothing has changed. We are still right where we were, in the Valley of Shadows. The home infusion pump continues to send chemo chemicals into Dixie’s body as we head home. It will continue for forty-six more hours. Yet this long day ends with a deep awareness of God’s presence, of having completed today’s part of our sacred journey with One who knows the way.

  Friday. It’s ten o’clock, and I am at SEATAC, gathering up our son Stephen, Nancy and Jesse, who look tired and happy to be on the ground again, having just flown all the way from Hong Kong, via Tokyo. A half hour later, Jessica is in the car with us as well, having come the opposite direction, from Denver. And a half hour after that we are all home again, beginning an extended pre-Christmas family weekend, the first in eleven years for us all to be together at the same time. Each minute is precious as laughter blends with delightful flavors around the food bar. When asked if anyone wants to do anything special, everyone agrees. We are doing it. So we just hang out together. Like family.

  Saturday. Everyone enjoys a tasty brunch prepared for us the day before by two of our good friends. Michele has taken a half day off from work to help oversee the kitchen. Neighbors place cards and small gifts at our door.

  We leave the rest of the family to arrive at SCCA at 4:30 for home pump removal. The nursing staff is nearing the end of a long week. Conversation is light, humor is the balm. Within the hour we are “free at last.” At least for another week. We head for home.

  Mark, Katy, Geoff and Corbin have joined us. Michele is the soup chef, presenting us with family tradition main courses of clam chowder and tomato bisque soup, bread and olives. After dinner, presents are shared with those who must leave before Christmas Day, to be with other family members elsewhere. As is often the case, presents are most enjoyed by those newest to the family, happy to be here, too young to know why.

  Jessica presents our three-year-old little dude, Corbin, with three small Jurassic-Park-style prehistoric animals. He proceeds to roar around family forest with them in true beast mode (it helps if you are a Seattle Seahawk fan) the rest of the evening. An endearing moment of innocent pleasure. No electric cords. No batteries. No flashing lights. Just three small hard mold toys and grateful thanks (twice I observe Corbin pause and say, “Thank you,” to his gift giver before roaring on by).

  Watching, I realize we can all learn something here. This wouldn’t be near the fun if his gift had just mysteriously turned up . . . if there had been no giver to thank . . . or if the little dude had to roar about the forest all alone. It turns out the real present is not the Jurassic-Park-style toy figures after all. The real present is presence. Presence of the giver. Presence of others with whom to share the gift. Presence makes one happy. Period.

  Jesus declared, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children.” ~ Matthew 11:25

  Sunday. Jessica returns to Denver this afternoon. The rest of us come together again in the evening for dinner. And while there are not many die-hard sports fans in our family (where did I go wrong?) the Seahawks do manage to make Seattle proud once more.

  Wednesday 24 December. A Tuesday evening dinner at a favorite Mexican restaurant is followed a few hours later by an early 3:00 am Christmas Eve drop off at SeaTac International. Stephen, Nancy and Jesse are on their way to Memphis and from there to Brownsville. They will visit Nancy’s mom and dad, fou
r sisters and their families, all from the eastern US, before flying back to Hong Kong on the 30th.

  Yes, the distances keeping us apart are indeed wide . . . but for this one week, we all agree. It’s a small world after all.

  We ought not to be weary of doing little things for the love of God, who regards not the greatness of the work, but the love with which it is performed. ~ Brother Lawrence, The Practice of the Presence of God

  The greatest small gift ever given mankind we celebrate on Christmas Day . . . Jesus’ presence mingled with ours . . . with those we love in our human family . . . and in the family of God.

  42

  When Rights Are Not Always Right

  Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that.

  Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.

  ~ Martin Luther King Jr., A Testament of Hope:

  The Essential Writings and Speeches

  This is Dixie’s bad week again, five days since Monday; for Dixie a day of appointments and chemo infusion. The bad days usually last well into the following week now, before she begins to feel what we call her “new normal.” Our far away family members are all safe at home after being with us for Christmas. It is quieter here, so for a few brief moments, we look at a wound on the world that, like a cancer of evil, is infecting the human spirit of us all. A wound that will not easily heal.

  “Suis-je Charlie?”

  “Happy New Year,” seems like an inappropriate cliché, uttered by gushing greeters at a mass funeral when one considers this week’s tragedy in Paris. Our new 2015 year begins with a sad and sobering reminder: we are indeed at war, though some on the world’s leadership stage appear to feel it is not really war if the word “war” is not spoken. It is not a conflict driven by a desperate need for food, or for a coveted patch of land, or even the result of misguided politics. It is a random fanaticism, fueled by confused religious and insular ideologies, goaded by a consuming hatred, often silent and unseen until striking with chaotic and deadly force. As is the case this week in January in Paris (additional terrorist attacks take place in Paris in November 2015). Sadly, by the time you read this, there will have been more terrorist acts and innocent victims elsewhere over which we must grieve.