Hopeless Determination

By Rick Packard

Hope Robertson is an active, middle-aged Midwesterner with breast cancer. She’s determined to beat the illness, but her doctors can’t cure her. When there's nothing left to do but wait to die, Hope's husband Dylan convinces her to throw caution to the wind -- they quit their jobs, sell the house, and embark on a cross-country journey. Mixed with the carefree days of their adventures, though, are unresolved emotions that Hope still carries with her from tragic events of her past.

Shelly McCarthy is an intelligent, up-and-coming East Coast track star with a bright future. But her world comes to a grinding halt when her parents die in a car accident on the night of her Senior Prom. After the funerals, Shelly learns that she’s adopted. With exhaustive detective work, and even illegal maneuvering, she uncovers the identity of one of her birth parents. With this information in hand, Shelly sets out to discover the past she never knew she had.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Dec 26, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312785052

Book preview

Hopeless Determination

Hopeless Determination

By Rick Packard

© 2014 – Rick Packard

All rights reserved

ISBN #: 978-1-312-78505-2

Chapter 1

It’s not dying that scares me as much as the uncertainty.  If only I knew what happens afterward, it might be easier.  Hope paused in thought. Then again, maybe it’s just as well that we don’t know.  She spoke with a matter-of-fact air about her.  Hope was beginning to accept her fate, but it didn’t mean she liked it.  She sat on the bed beside her husband.

Are you sure you want to go ahead with this? Dylan was having second thoughts. "We don’t have to do it, you know.  I wonder if it’s really the best thing."

Yeah, I think so.  Hope spoke softly.  There is a certain permanence about it all, though, like I’m reaching the end of the line.  Anyway, I really don’t think we have a choice.

We’ve always got choices, don’t we?

Hope paused, momentarily deep in thought.  "I don’t think I have very many choices….  Actually, I don’t know if I have any choices. Hope’s mind drifted.  Don’t forget, we sold just about everything; we’ve spent the past week in a motel; and just about all that’s left is packed in the SUV."

It’s never too late to turn back, to change our minds.  I know this seemed like a great idea, but maybe it’s not the best thing for you now – you know, leaving your parents and family and friends and all.  Is it fair to them?  They may need you around more than you need to be around them.

No, Dylan, this is the right choice.  I don’t have much time, and this is what I want to do.  Please don’t make me feel guilty about this – it’s what I need.  I’ve got to think about my needs too.  Are you still with me?

Of course I am. I’m sorry; I should have never brought it up.  Dylan sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall.

Don’t worry about it.  I know you mean well.  Hope reached across the bed, and patted his back.  Should we go to sleep then?  It’s late, and we’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.

Dylan turned out the light, and hopped back into bed.  The last thing he wanted was to make Hope feel guilty.  But he didn’t want her to feel pressured into leaving either.  All-in-all, he wished he had never brought it up.  They’d only had this conversation dozens of times in the past several months, and it always ended the same.

The next morning, the rain was pouring down in buckets, as Dylan peered out the motel lobby windows.  He counted to three, and ran as fast as he could to the truck. The back of his shirt was nearly soaked to the skin by the time he got inside, but that didn’t dampen his spirits.  Any hesitation he had last night about taking this trip was long behind him.  Now, thinking about the days and weeks ahead, he was as excited as a child opening presents on Christmas morning. He was ready to go.  Fidgeting in his seat, he couldn’t wait any longer.  With an impish grin, Dylan lightly tapped the car horn. Hope stood below the roof protecting the lobby entrance. 

Come on honey, let's get out of here! Dylan whined out the window, open only a crack to keep the rain from gushing in.  A little rain won’t hurt you.  He was teasing her – he could have driven the truck under cover for Hope, but he was daring her to run through the rain.

Oh you hush up, Hope scolded with a phony, parental tone, or you’ll wake up everyone in the whole motel.  You must be nuts if you think I’m going out into this rain!

How will we ever get on our way if you don’t get in the truck?  Dylan grinned.

Hope didn’t budge.  She crossed her arms, put a phony frown on her face, and tapped her foot a few times on the ground.  Seeing that she had called his bluff, Dylan backed the truck out of the parking stall, and maneuvered it nearby. When he stopped, Dylan nestled his sunglasses on top his head for later use, cranked the radio, closed his eyes, and sang along to the radio.  He was a bad singer, but he belted it out loud.  And for a moment, he felt like a teenager again.

Hope dashed toward the truck, threw her purse in the back, and jumped in the front seat.  Dylan slammed the four-wheeler into first gear, with the engine revved high.  He squealed the tires, and they were off like the wind.

Cripes, Dylan, are you trying to kill me before we even get out of town? Hope said jokingly.  She turned to Dylan and cracked a smile.  Her head jerked back against the headrest when Dylan shifted into second.

Traffic was light on the Beltline as Dylan drove across Madison toward the southbound Interstate. The heavy rain paused, only to burst into a hail storm several minutes later.  Hope and Dylan cringed as the small pebbles of ice pelted the vehicle. 

Oh my God, we sure don’t need a broken windshield on our first day.  Dylan pulled to the side of the road until the hail relented.  The hail sounded worse than it really was, and the truck escaped without any harm. 

Do you get the feeling someone or something is trying to keep us from leaving town?  Dylan spoke in a solemn tone, but winked as he merged back onto the highway.

Now, you know, I’m okay with this, honey.  This is what I –

– yes, yes, don’t worry, Hope.  No more of that goofy talk like last night.  I’m committed, and I’m ready to go.  We’re going to have a great time, for sure.  Dylan belted out a whoop.

Hope had an ear-to-ear grin.  She loved it when Dylan was in good spirits.  It made it all worthwhile.

Within a half hour, they had made their way to the outskirts of town.  Dylan then banked the truck south, and headed toward the Illinois border. The rain stopped, and the sun cracked through the clouds.  Hope popped the sunroof open, and at that moment, neither Dylan nor Hope Robertson had a care in the world.  The engine hummed, and the wind from the open sunroof blew through their hair as they flew by traffic to their right.

I always dreamed we could travel the open road together, seeing the entire continent … and then some, Dylan said.  Wouldn’t it be cool to drive all the way to South America?  Are you with me, honey?

Wow, that would be wild, Dylan, Hope said.  I’m not so sure I could handle that….  That would be an awful lot of driving….  You’re not serious, are you?  Sometimes Hope just didn’t know what to make of Dylan’s comments.

Just think of it, Hope.  We would wake up one morning, and find ourselves within reach of the South Pole.  We could sail across to Antarctica, or maybe we’d just turn around, and drive right on up to the North Pole!

I think I’ll be content with Illinois for the moment, Hope chuckled.

Hope realized that Dylan was just goofing around.  His chatter was just fantasy, and he was just dreaming out loud. She didn’t mind, though. She always figured if a person is going to dream, the dreams might as well be big ones.  But she had become somewhat more practical in recent years.

This trip was really happening, though, after months of preparation.  The Robertsons planned to crisscross the U.S., seeing all they could.  That would be enough to keep them happy for now.  On that day, just like Jack Kerouac years before, the road itself became the destination.  The highway was where they were going, and they planned to let it take them wherever it wanted. 

It was a bittersweet day, though.  Hope and Dylan were embarking on a journey that would probably be Hope’s last.  Until several months earlier, the Robertsons had well-paying jobs, and lived a comfortable middle-class lifestyle.  But for Hope’s illness, they would have been content to live out their ordinary suburban existence until retirement.  And they never would have had the courage to pack up, leave everything behind, and live their dream.  Ironically, only tragic circumstances permitted them to live the life that they really wanted.

The Robertsons’ idyllic lives came to a grinding halt when Hope was diagnosed with breast cancer, several years earlier.  Hope had felt a lump on her left breast, and sought medical advice within days.  She kept it a secret from Dylan, though, and had led him to believe that her medical visit was for nothing more than a routine physical.  It didn’t even surprise Dylan when he came home that day to find Hope in tears, sitting on the couch.  Hope was a true romantic, who was often moved to tears by a sad TV show, a romantic book, or even a dramatic news magazine photo.

Whatcha been reading? Dylan said lightheartedly.

Hope didn’t say a word, and only looked at him.  Dylan realized this was more serious than a good cry.  He rushed to her side.

Honey, what’s wrong?  What happened?

Hope sobbed and shook her head, I can’t believe this.  I can’t believe this.  The doctor thinks I may have cancer.  Her voice drifted off. 

Dylan wasn’t sure that he had heard her correctly.  When Hope repeated herself, Dylan was taken aback.

Are you serious?

They say I have a suspicious lump in my left breast.  Actually, I found it a couple of days ago, but I didn’t want to worry you.  The big surprise is that my right breast has a similar lump that I missed.

"I wish you would have told me about this, honey.  I could have been there for you.

I didn’t want to worry you, Dylan.  Besides … I really didn’t think it would be anything serious.  Women have lumps all of the time that turn out to be nothing.  Hope continued to shake her head in disbelief.  The doctor had scheduled her for a mammogram right away that day, and the early diagnosis wasn’t good.  Dylan tried to comfort Hope as best he could, but the magnitude of the situation just didn't sink in.  He had so much faith in modern medicine that, at first, he naively thought that the illness would surely pass with time and treatment. 

He hugged Hope tightly, gently rocking her back and forth.

Don’t worry, honey, you’ll be okay.  We’ll get through this.

Dylan never imagined then that Hope’s life was in jeopardy.  She was only 40-years old, and he couldn’t comprehend that the end of her life might be drawing near.

"I know, Dylan.  I know we’ll get through this…. I’ll get through this. It just came as such a shock."  Even Hope downplayed the severity of her situation.

Hope underwent a horrendous ordeal over the next two years. A lumpectomy led to chemotherapy.  Hope lost all of her hair during that period, and her arms were covered in bruises from the countless injections. But always the eternal optimist, she rarely lost her smile.

Sometimes things got too rough for even Hope, though.  She would tire of the nausea induced by the plethora of medications in her system.  On bad days, it hurt to even think of getting out of bed.  But somehow she always did it.  Those days were more about existing and surviving than anything else; Hope put one foot in front of the other, just to stay alive.  On those extremely black days, even Hope’s lips couldn’t turn up for a smile.  And when Hope’s smile went flat, it nearly hurt Dylan as much as her.

Week after week, Dylan stood by helplessly, watching Hope shed countless tears of pain.  Nurse after nurse injected burning chemicals into her arms.  Dylan could see the pain on her face as the flaming drugs coursed through her veins. At times, he wanted to scream stop! and just take her away from that awful hospital.

How can anything so painful cure you, Hope?  This is just awful, how can you take this?  Dylan was ready to break on the day a nurse took four jabs into Hope’s arm before she found a vein that could take the medicine.

We just have to have faith, Hope said as she exhaled a deep breath after the needle was in place.  A lot of people survive cancer these days.  And I’ll be one of them.

But after months of chemotherapy, the doctors couldn’t halt the cancer spread.  Hope was alone on the day the doctor said she was left with two choices – she could have a mastectomy or quite certainly die.  And it wasn’t just one breast.  Given the lack of positive results with chemotherapy, Hope would need a double mastectomy.  I can’t promise you this will work, the doctor said, but it’s really your best chance to beat this….

On his way home from work that day, Dylan had decided to surprise Hope with a bouquet of flowers.  He stopped for a dozen roses, and had them nestled behind his back as he entered the house.

Honey, I’m home!

The words echoed through the house without reply.  Honey, he yelled again.  Hope?

Hmm, he thought, Hope’s car is in the garage.  Maybe she took a walk.  It never occurred to him that anything might be wrong.

Dylan hummed to himself as he put the roses in a vase with water, and placed them on the kitchen table.  He continued humming as he began to whip up some dinner.  Then Dylan thought he heard something.  He couldn’t make it out for sure, but it sounded like muffled sobbing, coming through the ceiling.  He trotted upstairs, but no sign of Hope.  He called.  Nothing.  Then he heard the muffled sound of crying coming from their bedroom closet.  Dylan slowly opened the closet door. Hope wouldn’t even look up at Dylan.

Oh my gosh, are you okay, Hope?  What’s wrong?  He quickly knelt beside her.

You’re not going to be attracted to me anymore.  You won’t love me anymore.  I can’t believe this is happening to me.

She said it several more times, as Dylan sat down beside her on the floor, and wrapped his arm around her.  He pulled her close to his side.

What are you talking about, Hope?  Dylan was perplexed.

The doctors want to cut me up.  I hate those bastards.  I hate this cancer.  I hate….  Why me?  I am so angry; I am fed up with all of this!  Hope’s voice had risen to a fevered pitch, but her anger quickly dwindled back to sobs.

Dylan was still in the dark, but he didn’t ask questions.  He consoled her, and repeated the words that he had often spoken, I love you, and I will love you no matter what.  You know that, honey.  You can always count on that.  I’m here for you.  Hope and Dylan sat in the closet until Hope could cry no more.

Throughout the night, Dylan learned the story in bits and pieces.  Of course, Hope would opt for the surgery – it was a matter of life and death – but that didn’t make it any easier.  There are always risks with surgery, and this was radical surgery.  To think that the doctors would be amputating a part of Hope’s body left Dylan with an empty feeling in his gut.  But he knew that he would always love Hope, and no surgery would change that.

Hope was scheduled for the mastectomy.  She cried off and on for days before the operation.  And after the surgery, Hope refused to look down at her mutilated chest for several weeks.  Dylan was constantly at her side.  He felt so helpless, but Hope did appreciate his support.

There was renewed optimism after the surgery.  Without chemotherapy, Hope’s hair returned.  Hope and Dylan began to think that she had actually beaten the terrible illness.  Her first recheck several months later showed positive results.  The outlook seemed bright.  A half year later, the future still appeared rosy.

A year later, however, the doctors detected cancer in the lymph nodes near where her breasts once were.  A second round of chemotherapy flopped.  Hope was tiring, and it was evident on her face and in her attitude.  She had aged ten years in two.  She was depressed, looked beaten, and was about ready to simply give up.

Early one Saturday morning while Hope still slept, Dylan had happened upon a medical news show about cutting edge developments in the treatment of cancer.  He watched with great interest as the newscaster discussed an experimental form of treatment in the developmental stages, right at the university in Madison.  It was called hyperthermia, and centered on the theory that cancer cells could not handle as high of temperatures as other cells in the body.

Dylan was excited and proud when he woke up Hope with the news.  For once, he felt like he was really making a difference; he was making a real contribution.

Hope, you’re not going to believe this!  I think I’ve found the answer!

Hope wasn’t too keen on waking up so early that morning.  Saturday was her favorite day to sleep in.  Her terse response revealed her grouchiness.

What are you talking about, Dylan?

Dylan could hardly control his joy, and he spoke a million words a minute.  I saw the news!  I’ve even made some calls!  I think that I’ve got you in for an interview!

Dylan, please slow down.  I’m sorry, but what in the world are you talking about?

Hope, hold onto your horses.  If you’re willing, I’ve found an experimental cancer treatment program right here in town.  I even managed to get a hold of the lead doctor at the hospital.  Can you believe it?  They want to meet with you, and review your records.  But he thinks you might be a perfect candidate!  There’s still hope, honey!

Dylan could see the tears swelling up in Hope’s eyes.  Oh, Dylan, I love you, were her only words.

The doctors didn’t waste any time.  Hope was approved for the project, and her first treatment was scheduled.  Within a week, Hope and Dylan left for the hospital with a new lease on life.  They really thought that this would do the trick.

However, they both had their doubts after the first day of treatment.  This cutting edge treatment seemed almost primitive.  Hope was taken to a room where she was covered with a heavy type of blanket.  Her body then entered a long cylindrical chamber – it reminded Dylan of the iron lungs he had seen in pictures with helpless polio victims trapped inside.  Within the chamber, the doctors heated Hope’s body with electromagnetic waves to feverish temperatures in an attempt to burn out the cancer.  Hope, who generally favored cool fall days to hot summer ones, did not fare so well.

And she was also mildly claustrophobic.  On her first day of treatment, the hyperthermia chamber terrified her, but the thought of dying terrified her more.  So she didn’t resist.  As she traveled into the tube on a conveyor belt of sorts, she shut her eyes tight.  Dylan was there to keep her company, but he