My name is Loren Wheale, and I want to tell you about my daughter Mollie. I am telling this story for the parents who are right now sitting in a hospital room with a sick child, scared out of their minds, wondering if life will ever be normal again. I have been there. I know that fear.
Mollie was born on November 27, 2007 in Manteca, California. She was a bright, curious little girl from the start, always moving and always learning. But her second birthday was not spent with cake and balloons. It was spent in a hospital bed at Children’s Hospital Oakland, fighting for her life.
It started with what looked like a couple of colds, then came a high fever, a rash, red eyes, swelling in her hands and feet, cracked lips, and a “strawberry” tongue. The doctors diagnosed her with Kawasaki disease, a rare illness that causes inflammation in blood vessels and can permanently damage the heart if not treated quickly.
The standard treatment is intravenous immunoglobulin (IVIG) along with aspirin. Most children respond to one infusion. Mollie didn’t. She was in the 10 to 20 percent of cases considered IVIG-resistant. That meant she needed a second infusion, what doctors call a “double IVIG,” which is rare.
By that time, she had IVs in every possible place. In the end, her foot worked best, but we were running out of locations. She also had another serious complication: a congenital heart condition called Patent Ductus Arteriosus (PDA). Before birth, the ductus arteriosus is a vessel that allows blood to bypass the lungs. After birth it is supposed to close within days. Mollie’s did not. It was shooting blood directly into her heart, like a thumb partially covering a garden hose, and doctors were concerned it could scar her heart for life.
After the second IVIG, she finally slept. The next morning, she woke up as if nothing had happened. From lifeless to giggling in twelve hours. I will never forget that moment. It was the turning point where I believed she might really be okay.
Because of the Kawasaki disease and the PDA, Mollie was not allowed to do any sports until after age ten. We went to countless cardiology appointments, first every few weeks, then every few months, then yearly. The PDA eventually closed on its own. Every new test showed she was not just healthy, but strong and athletic.
When she was finally cleared, Mollie went full speed into sports. She started with softball, playing shortstop, where her quick hands, strong arm, and sharp field vision made her a natural. I wouldn’t let her pitch at first, because she was such an outstanding shortstop and she asked to be trained there.
When our family moved to New Hampshire, she pitched for her 8th grade team at West Running Brook Intermediate School. Her teammates called her “Wonder Woman” and even gave her a cape. She loved it, but she still wanted to pitch full time. I promised her that if she was serious, I would make a pitching and hitting lane in the historic 1810 barn that came with our new home. But I told her she would have to work hard, every day, no excuses.
At age fourteen, she started pitching seriously. She trained relentlessly, often alone in that barn, and in just a short time she was not only a dependable pitcher but still a strong shortstop. Those two positions became her passions.
Her work ethic paid off. In softball, she moved from freshman to varsity at Pinkerton Academy almost instantly. She had no-hitters, monster home runs, and clutch performances against top teams. Coaches praised her speed, her swing, and her determination.
In her sophomore year she also joined track for the first time, competing in hurdles. She placed 14th in the championships. The next year, as a junior, she came back and placed 6th. She had never done hurdles before sophomore year.
Mollie is also an artist who paints on canvas, winning awards from the City of Lathrop in California. She is a musician who plays guitar, a traveler who has been to the UK and dreams of going to Disney World, and a coastal explorer who loves Monterey and Carmel. She coaches younger girls in softball, teaching them to be better hitters, fielders, and pitchers.
On August 6, 2025, at seventeen years old, Mollie verbally committed to play Division I softball at Long Island University in Brooklyn, New York, as both a pitcher and utility player. Born in Manteca, raised in California and New Hampshire, she will now take her game and her determination to one of the biggest cities in the world.
For the parents reading this who are wondering if their child will ever live a full, normal life after Kawasaki disease, even in rare double-IVIG cases, I want you to know… it is possible. Mollie was so close to death at age two. We spent years wondering if she would ever run without worry. Now she is a Division I athlete, a strong student, and a healthy young woman.
There is hope. There is life after Kawasaki disease. And sometimes, there is a story you can tell that will help the next parent keep believing.