ROGER and Carole McKenzie live only in the moment. It's too painful to think back to Aug. 8, when an out-of-control car on Bishop Street jumped the curb and smashed into their then 11-year-old daughter, Katie. On the other hand, it's scarier mulling the future. In fact, her parents refer to their child's condition as "sleeping," as if the word "coma" might somehow jinx her recovery. Waiting for Katie
McKenzie to wake upFor the past month, Katie's room in the Queen's Medical Center was well-lit and decorated with balloons, flowers, happy photographs of her, and banners that urged, "Get Well" and "Come Home Soon."
Yesterday, Katie was moved to Kapiolani Women's and Children's Hospital, where her mother is the director of Women and Newborn Services. Surrounded by stuffed animals in her new bed, Katie cradles a Beanie Baby cow in one hand. Her birthday presents from Aug. 15 are neatly stacked and unopened in her mom's office.
Katie's room is a happy place, despite her serious condition.
Her spleen and left kidney have been removed. There's a metal plate in her pelvis. Both of her legs are laden with hardware.
She has undergone CAT-scans, an MRI, EEG and other tests -- all while unconscious. She has a tube to provide oxygen if needed and another in her stomach to feed her. And while she has opened her eyes several times (including during the move on Sunday), and has shown responsiveness via hand squeezes, for the most part she "sleeps."
Carole and her husband took turns camping out in the Queen's waiting room. Friends -- including strangers waiting for their own loved ones in the hospital -- brought them coffee, meals and snacks. Everything was shared. "We were drawn together by the common bond of tragedy," says Carole, 48.
Katie's transfer from Queen's to Kapiolani won't change her parents' routine much. Both Carole and Roger, a 49-year-old employee at ALTRES Inc., will continue to talk and read to Katie, and play music for her -- an eclectic repertoire ranging from Madonna to violin concertos.
Every day is the same. Listen attentively when the doctors make their rounds. Make frequent calls to their parents on the mainland. Read newspapers and magazines. Carole has even started a journal for Katie to read later. Carole recollects how much she used to love novels, but how her brain won't allow her to focus for long.
On anything except Katie. That means another constant struggle -- trying to regain some semblance of a normal life for Katie's 10-year-old brother, Rory. He has returned to school, started soccer and seems to have gotten over the initial trauma of what happened to his older sister. He was there.
AS described by Star-Bulletin reporter Linda Aragon, "Katie and Rory McKenzie had taken the bus into work with their dad. While changing buses at Bishop Street, Katie was walking in front of the family across the courtyard to a bus stop facing King Street.
"Witnesses said people waiting to cross the street and at the bus stop jumped out of the way as the Buick ran onto the sidewalk...McKenzie thought his daughter had made it out of the car's path.
"McKenzie said blood was coming from her nose. His daughter had no pulse. But then, 'She coughed a little and I knew she was alive.'
"Since yesterday, McKenzie along with his wife, Carole, have been waiting in the Intensive Care Unit."
They are still waiting.