Sometimes BeingThankful is Not Enough

Last year on Thanksgiving morning, my dad, Doug Mollsen, went to the emergency room because he thought he had a cold and needed some antibiotics. When he never came home, my mother found out that he had been admitted to ICU, his lungs had collapsed, and only a 1/4 of one lung was working.

To ensure that he would not move and cause the rest of his lung to collapse, they induced a coma. As you can imagine, when I called my mother to wish her a Happy Thanksgiving last year, this was not what I was expecting to hear. I knew that my mother was not ready to lose her husband; I feared for her, knowing that his death could crush her sanity coming so unexpectedly, and on a holiday.

We gathered our courage and focused on his strength of character, and we said to each other, "He will pull through," giving death no power.

Because it was a holiday, they would not be able to get tests results for days. They assumed he had pneumonia, but after a few days, when he did not respond to the antibiotics, they put him on steroids. Finally, a week later, he was diagnosed with Wegeners. An extremely rare autoimmune disease that attacks the blood vessels. The inflammation in the b.v.s prevents adequate oxygen supply to the major organs, particularly the sinuses, lungs and kidneys. The tissues die of hypoxia (lack of oxygen). Dad had been wheezing for months previously, and had no idea that what was going on inside of him was extremely serious. His lungs had been dying.

My mother sat at his side from morning until night, making sure that no doctor or nurse spoke of any negativity in his presence. She held his hand and talked with him. He was in an induced coma with intubation for two months. During this time, she prevented doctors, who didn't read his charts properly, from giving him the wrong medicine! Imagine what a tiny mistake like that would have done to him in this fragile state.


Well, after two months, they stopped giving him coma meds. I can only imagine what an incredibly joyful moment that was for my mother to see his eyes. However, he still had the painful tube in his throat, and his eyes would tear up from the pain, as my mother tried to sooth him. To live for him was still a day-to-day struggle. There were still no guarantees. His recovery was extremely slow.

Finally, they took the tube out, and he breathed on his own- YEA!!! He started to talk to the doctors and nurses, and they were finally able to meet this incredible man that had caused this woman to sit by his side day in, day out. They loved him instantly, such a kind man. He would say how badly he wanted to live because he loved this woman so much.

One of the kindest things a doctor said, is that his recovery was a miracle only possible because of my mother's love for him.

Because of muscle atrophy, he was not strong enough to lift his arms up. He had to relearn how to use his muscles from scratch. He had to learn how to feed himself again and walk. Finally, at the end of January, he came home.

But, it has still been a battle. The only treatment for Wegener's is steroidal, and the side-effects are challenging for my Mother to live with. Many times she has wanted to wring his neck!!! Kind of ironic isn't it? He constantly worries about everything, following her around asking her why? why? why? about every little thing she does. Worries so much about money, that he refuses to see the psychologist to get medicine to offset the effects of the steroids.

When I called my mother this year for Thanksgiving, sadly, she was reliving last year. She said she was just breaking up. She was done cutting the onions and couldn't keep using them as an excuse for why her eyes were watery. She said, "I know I should be thankful that he is here with me, but I just can't shake this."

That's what daughters are for, and their boyfriends. I assured her, "I know just what you need! You need to hear one of Swede's jokes."


On speaker phone, Swede began to tell my mother about these rabbits that he has, they never go outside, they always stay inside, no, no, no, they've never been out... they're ingrown hares.

I once had these two rabbits, and they ran into a haystack, trying to escape from a pack of wolves. Well, one of the rabbits said to the other, huffing and puffin, out of breath, "Well, are we going to stay here and outnumber 'em, or are we going to make a run for it?" The other rabbit said, "We're gonna make a run for it, you idiot, we're brothers!"

When being thankful isn't enough, try rabbit jokes- it works.