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More than 40 years later, the memory of an early morning phone call still makes William (Bill) Scroggie, M.D., tear up.

It was 1972, and on the other end of the line was a nurse. She connected Dr. Scroggie with surgeon Dick Ellis, M.D. The news about a 2-year-old patient was not good.

“I’ll never forget it,” Dr. Scroggie said. “It was about 2 in the morning. Dick said, ‘Bill, I think Jon might die.’ I came out of that bed so fast and raced to the hospital. Jon’s dad, Bill, was a good friend of mine and I was being told his son was going to die.”

Dr. Scroggie chokes back the tears at the thought. “But Jon didn’t die,” he said. “He was a tough kid. But boy it was nip and tuck there for a while.”

That 2-year-old child became a Fort Worth legend and an internationally known chef, who includes three stints cooking at the prestigious James Beard House in New York City, winning Wine Spectator’s Award of Excellence every year since 2004 and having one of the highest Zagat ratings in the state of Texas. But before all the fame and Bonnell’s Restaurant Group, he was a toddler fighting for his life in the capable hands of a pioneering surgeon and a legendary pediatrician.

“It was life threatening,” Dr. Ellis said. “Little 2 year olds are very fragile. I wanted Dr. Scroggie to know how sick Jon was. Jon tells me all the time I saved his life. I don’t know that we save lives particularly. I think sometimes we make a difference. But if I ever did save a life in Fort Worth, it was Jon’s.”

Young Jon was showing symptoms of a virus going around at the time that other babies in the area were experiencing. Jon’s mother, D’Ann Walsh Bonnell, called Dr. Scroggie’s office and was told to keep an eye on her child but it was probably nothing out of the ordinary. By the next morning, things had taken a serious turn for the worse.

Bonnell was rushed to Fort Worth Children’s (prior to the Cook Children’s merger), where he was diagnosed with a serious condition called intussusception, in which part of the intestines slide into an adjacent part of the intestines. The “telescoping” effect blocks food or fluid from passing through. Intussusception cuts off the blood supply to the part of the intestine that’s affected, causing an infection and the death of bowel tissue. The bowel can die (gangrene) in a spot and then a little hole develops. Bowel contents “leak” into the peritoneal cavity causing peritonitis.

“We had a real emergency on our hands,” Dr. Scroggie said. “This is where Dick Ellis comes in. He was able to open Jon up and find the dead part of the intestinal track. Without Dr. Ellis’ surgical expertise I don’t think the outcome would have been as good. Jon was darn lucky. If he had been anywhere other than Fort Worth at the time, I don’t know if he would have made it. At that point in time, Dr. Ellis’ expertise was rare.”

The landscape of medical care in the early 1970s was much different than the expertise found at Cook Children’s today. While there weren’t many pediatricians in the area, Dr. Ellis was the first fellowship-trained pediatric surgeon in Tarrant County and was one of about 50 pediatric surgeons in the entire country.

“We were all super busy,” Dr. Scroggie said. “But I’ll tell you what. Jon had our full attention. Twenty-four hours a day. It was a tense time, but he was a tough kid.”

At the time, the hospitals didn’t have a pediatric intensive care unit like Cook Children’s has now. So Dr. Ellis decided to create a makeshift ICU.

“I commandeered a room at the hospital, right next to Jon’s room and slept there that night,” Dr. Ellis said. “Every hour on the hour the nurses woke me up and I went in and checked his urinary output and adjusted his fluids. I did a few other lab tests. In other words I was his ICU doctor and I stayed with him until the next day when he turned the corner.”

Bonnell spent more than two months in the hospital. Dr. Scroggie and his team then followed the young patient’s progress as Bonnell returned to good health.

Along with the initial surgery and two follow-up surgeries over the course of two months, Bonnell received intravenous nutrition, fluids and antibiotics while hospitalized.

“And then, we prayed. It was pretty scary,” Dr. Scroggie said. “It’s hard to believe he went through so much when you see how Jon looks now. He runs and swims, doing marathons and Ironman triathlons. But boy he was a skinny wasted little thing at the low point of that whole deal.”

For Bonnell, his time in the hospital is mostly a collection of stories that have been passed down from his family through the years. But he does have a constant reminder that he was a very sick little boy. A scar remains on the right side of his neck where an intravenous (IV) nutrition tube was placed for him to receive nutrients, and a larger scar runs from hip to hip across his abdomen.

“The story has been told so many times I’m not sure exactly what happened and what didn’t,” Bonnell said. “The only part I really remember is when I got out of the hospital. I remember being home for Christmas. I’ve got an older brother and an older sister and I remember getting Christmas presents, but not being strong enough to open them up; and my brother and sister being so nice that they would come over and open presents for me. They would just set them there, you know like a little stuffed lion. I got to ride in a classic red wagon and they pulled me around the house because I didn’t have the strength to do much of anything that Christmas.”

Years later, Bonnell has remained a supporter of Cook Children’s. He sits on 15 different boards and he says many of those have some kind of a fundraiser leading back to Cook Children’s.

“I always got the feeling that Cook Children’s was special because my parents said, ‘Even as sick as you were it didn’t feel like a hospital. You didn’t seem like you were out of place,’” Bonnell said. “There were always toys. There was always somebody there to make you smile. To make you laugh. It felt like a different kind of place.”

And it still does more than 40 years later.

Celebrating Cook Children's Centennial

Cook Children's is turning 100 and will be celebrating all year! Don't miss out on the fun throughout 2018. Enjoy unique stories, parades, special guests, and community events across Fort Worth. We hope that you can share in some our celebrations because you're the 1 in our 100!

Celebrate with us

Here are some of their stories:

WHERE DOCTORS LISTEN

Linda Downey was just 12 years old when an eye doctor told her he could see fluid built up behind her eyes. It was 1968 and she knew something was wrong because she had been losing her eyesight and ability to walk over the previous two years.

“Other doctors thought it was psychological, but he said this is serious. She needs to see a neurosurgeon,” Downey said.

She was sent to see a physician at Fort Worth Children’s Hospital, located in the spot where the main building of Cook Children’s sits now. During her stay, she would take rides through the tunnel that connected the adjacent hospital (Texas Health Harris Methodist) to the children’s hospital.

“It was like a roller coaster, but it wasn’t much fun for me because of the fluid on my brain.”

Downey underwent three brain surgeries and finally left Fort Worth Children’s in 1969. Since then, she’s been to Cook Children’s many times to visit her friends’ kids who’ve become patients over the years. She says the difference between then and now is incredible.

“It’s very different than it used to be. There’s much more for children to do,” she said.

One thing that hasn’t changed – doctors listening to their patients.

“At the time, I just needed someone to listen,” Downey explained. “I wouldn’t be alive today if there wasn’t a hospital dedicated to listening to children and their parents.”

A NEW HOME

Mandy Flaming’s family also lives close to Cook Children’s, but not because they planned it that way.

Her daughter, Tatum, had been receiving treatment for leukemia for two years while living in Abilene. During Tatum’s final spinal procedure, doctors discovered she had relapsed. It was then that Tatum’s parents knew they couldn’t go home.

“We knew so much of her treatment would be in patient and our family would be separated if we were to travel back and forth,” said Flaming. “We decided, pretty much overnight, to move to Fort Worth.”

They called on their family and friends who had been offering their help for years and asked for assistance moving. Before they knew it, their home was packed up and on a moving truck headed to North Texas.

“We lived in the Ronald McDonald House for a couple of months while we were trying to get on our feet,” she said. “It was difficult at times because it wasn’t what we wanted, but it was what we had been handed so we were going to face it with bravery and go forward.”

Tatum finished her relapse therapy in 2013 and now see her Cook Children’s oncologist once a year for a checkup.

“We’re so grateful for the doctors and nurses. Anything we can give back, we are more than willing, even if it’s a blue light on our porch.”

Diego and Tatiana Alvarez did all those things to help their son Mirko in his battle against epilepsy in a wild adventure that began a year ago in Bolivia and brought them to Cook Children's Medical Center in Fort Worth, Texas.

Mirko, now 4 years old, has since returned with his family to Bolivia. He's walking and showing amazing progress. It's hard to believe that this little boy went through so much over the course of a year, taking his family with him through a remarkable adventure.

Down a dead-end street

Life in Bolivia is judged on a different scale than how we measure success in the United States. Minimum wage is around $280 a month. You make a decent living at about $800 and anything over $1,000 is considered great.

Diego and Tatiana lived a good life in Santa Cruz, Bolivia, raising their children - Andrey, 10, Mia, 8 and Mirko. Diego helped students learn English and competed in mixed martial arts. Tatiana drew amazing sketches and her art hung in the couple's home.

For three years, Mirko kept up with other children his own age when it came to speaking, running and playing.

Then on Feb. 12, 2016, Mirko ran a very low temperature, but nothing to get too concerned over ... at least not right away. After the fever continued for a couple of days, the family made a doctor's appointment.

The evening prior to the appointment, Diego was in the gym training for his next fight. He put his phone away, but as he was warming up he noticed it was blinking and he felt that something was going on before he picked up the phone. When he answered, he heard his mom hysterically screaming and shouting.

"Something has happened to Mirko," she said. "He's convulsing."

Diego grabbed his stuff and ran to his car. His wife called shortly after. "Mirko's dying," Tatiana cried.

Tatiana held Mirko and stepped outside their home screaming for help, Andrey ran to a neighbor's house to a neighbor, who rushed Tatiana, Mirko and his siblings to the hospital. Diego drove from training to the hospital to meet his family. The convulsions continued all over the little boy's body and his eyes rolled back in his head. The doctor on duty asked Diego to step outside.

"We are a small hospital. We can't take care of him," the doctor said. "You need to take him to a big hospital."

Then the doctor surprised Diego with a question. "Do you have a car?" The doctor explained the ambulance at the hospital wasn't dependable and a newer car would get Mirko to the hospital faster.

Diego, his sister, Mirko, with an IV in his arm, and the doctor piled into the sports car and took off like they were being chased in an action movie.

"Thank God I drove a fast car," Diego said.

The family raced through Bolivia, pounding the horn, screaming at people to get out of the way while running red lights. At one point, a traffic jam stopped the car and the doctor told Diego he had to find a way to get Mirko to the hospital because the little boy only had a few minutes left to live.

"It was terrifying," Diego said. "I was moving on instinct and desperation."

Diego remembered that another hospital was only three blocks away from where they were stopped. He hopped his car on the sidewalk, yelling at people to move. They made it to the bigger hospital's ER. The convulsions lasted for more than 40 minutes. But doctors were able get Mirko stabilized.

Treated Like a Refrigerator

Mirko always had been a daddy's boy. They share a special bond that began at birth. Diego stayed next to his sleeping son, scared of what would happen if he closed his eyes.

"I didn't even know what a seizure was until this happened to Mirko," Diego said.

Mirko woke up at the hospital and smiled at Diego like it was any other day and even asked, "Why are we here?" But any sign of relief vanished as Mirko's eyelids began to twitch again.

Mirko received thorough testing - an MRI and an EEG. The next day, Diego and Tatiana met with a neurologist at the hospital in Bolivia.

"She treated our son like a refrigerator. She was very cold," Diego said. "She said, 'Your son has epilepsy. Give him this medication. I'll see you in three months.' We had so many questions. 'What can he eat?' 'What can he drink?' 'What happens the next time he has a seizure?' 'Will he have a normal life?' 'But we never got the chance to ask anything."

White Spots on the Brain

The MRI scan of Mirko came back, showing "white spots on his brain." A neurologist told Diego that his son could have leukodystrophy, which shows up in the white matter of the brain on scans. Diego looked up the disorder online and his heart plummeted into his stomach. If he had leukodystrophy, Mirko possibly faced loss of motor function, muscle rigidity, the loss of sight and hearing and eventually death."

"I cried a lot," Diego remembers. "It's the worst you could hear about your son. He's going to die. I was never an alcoholic. I never did drugs. I didn't smoke. Neither did my wife. We lived such healthy lives. But we couldn't help but wonder if it was somehow our fault."

Fortunately, Mirko's parents wanted a second opinion. They found a neurologist who told them their son didn't have the fatal disorder. The white spots were likely a result of the MRI machine being so old at the previous hospital.

While that news was good, it only proved what Diego and Tatiana already knew. They weren't getting the best care possible. They would have to go elsewhere to find any hope for Mirko.

A Game of Chance

Their new neurologist told Diego and Tatiana their son wasn't going to die, but he needed surgery to control his epilepsy. Mirko needed surgery to remove the portion of the brain causing the seizures and he needed it fast.

Mirko's seizures came often - 20, 40, 60 seizures or more a day. He lost his quality of life and their happy little boy was losing himself to epilepsy.

"I was tortured," Tatiana said. "I would count the seizures every day. The amazing thing was after every seizure, Mirko would still smile. I read a Facebook post by a dad who said to count the smiles and not the seizures. That changed everything for me. I now saw more smiles than seizures."

Diego and Tatiana were desperate to find help for their son.

Diego's father, Javier, told his son they would find the best place in the world for their son. Somehow, they would find the money to make this miracle happen.

Mirko's parents searched online and researched to find the right hospital for their little boy. They found hospitals in Chile, Brazil, Miami, New York and Houston. They narrowed their focus to a children's hospital in Miami. The soonest they could see him was three months.

But as Diego frequently says, "God has his ways."

During the turmoil of trying to find a place to help his grandson, Javier went to play billiards with friends to distract him from the real world for a little while.

A friend could see something was bothering him and asked what was wrong. When Javier told the man Mirko's story, the friend told him about his niece's child who had a serious neurological disorder. He described to Javier about a place in Fort Worth, Texas called Cook Children's. After being seen at Cook Children's, the family had actually moved to Fort Worth to be near the doctors. That's how much the place had meant to them.

"He told my dad that lady had been all over the world. All the same places we'd been looking at too. But the woman said she couldn't find any treatment for her son until they came to Cook Children's," Diego said.

That evening, Javier talked to his friend's niece about Cook Children's. The following day Javier connected Diego with the woman and they spoke for more than two hours.

"She really convinced me," Diego said. "I felt it. I felt this was the place. We had to get to Fort Worth."

Diego called Cook Children's and was connected to Yadira Nunez, International Business Development liaison. He told her his story and that a neurologist at Cook Children's, had taken care of a family friend's son. Nunez was in Mexico for a conference with a neurologist and put Diego on the phone with the doctor.

Within a matter of hours, Diego and Tatiana booked an appointment that would have them arriving in Fort Worth in less than two weeks.

Sell Everything

With an appointment made, the Alvarez family now had to pay for their trip. Javier bought the plane tickets for Mirko and his parents. The need for money called for drastic steps. On Dec. 5, 2016, Diego spent his birthday selling nearly everything he owned to provide care for his son; and the rest of the family also sacrificed their belongings.

"Thank God Diego's father was there to help and made everything possible," Tatiana said. "Diego always says, 'My dad is our guardian angel.'"

Diego, Tatiana and Mirko arrived in Fort Worth on Dec. 6, 2016. They spent Tatiana's birthday, Mirko's birthday, Christmas and New Year's Day at Cook Children's - all away from their two other children.

Their older son and daughter were heavily impacted by Mirko's condition. Not only were they away from their parents for more than six months, but they had to withdraw from private school.

"Private schools are so important in Bolivia," Diego said. "Public schools there aren't good. You can't get the same education, plus they are insecure. There are kidnappings at the other schools."

Diego's mom went with her grandchildren to the school and stayed there until the end of the day so the kids wouldn't be left alone.

Dump Truck

At Cook Children's, the Comprehensive Epilepsy Team took over the day-to-day care of Mirko as he was admitted to the Epilepsy Monitoring Unit once he arrived. Within 11 hours, he experienced 40 seizures.

"We evaluated Mirko and struggled a bit with the actual reason for his epilepsy, but ultimately decided a large resection of his frontal lobe would be the best answer to help him without hurting him," said Scott Perry, M.D. medical director of Neurology. "We also knew this initial resection may not be adequate, but wanted to try to preserve as much of his brain as we could."

On Feb. 2, 2017, David Donahue, M.D., a neurosurgeon at Cook Children's, performed the surgery on Mirko to remove his left frontal lobe. While the Diego and Tatiana found previous doctors cold, they found themselves being listened to and informed at Cook Children's. Both Diego and Tatiana refer to Dr. Donahue as the "sweetest."

Following surgery, doctors prepared Diego and Tatiana for the possibility that their son may not speak because speech was in the area removed. But when he came out of anesthesia, Mirko looked at his parents and said two simple words typical of many little boys.

"Dump truck."

It's believed that the brain, being the amazing organ that it is, already was using the healthier parts on the opposite side to shift his speech. The other fear was that Mirko would be paralyzed on his right side. But soon after surgery, they noticed while sleeping Mirko moved his right arm and leg.

Diego and Tatiana hoped that the surgery would end Mirko's seizures. While they weren't every day, Mirko still had seizures, although not the severe ones that had been so devastating. The neurological team held out hope that the surgery would eventually end the seizures altogether.

And Diego and Tatiana waited for things to return to how they used to be.

You Can't Go Home ... Yet

Following the initial surgery, Diego, Tatiana and Mirko planned to go home to Bolivia. They had received help and Mirko's seizures weren't as severe and easier to control.

But that wasn't good enough for the Epilepsy Team.

The team knew that the same quality of health care wouldn't be waiting for Mirko in Bolivia and he wasn't responding well enough to medications to control his seizures. They felt it was it was in Mirko's best interest to have one more surgery.

"It was difficult to tell Mirko's family that another major surgery was needed. But we felt under the circumstances, a second surgery was required to establish a better quality of life for Mirko once he returned home," Dr. Perry said. "It was really his only hope at that point."

While the first surgery removed Mirko's left frontal lobe, a few weeks later the second surgery disconnected the entire left hemisphere from the right side of his brain.

After the surgery was performed Mirko developed a blood clot in his brain and the family stayed in Texas for two more months to treat it. Mirko required six blood thinner shots a day for those two months and took them "like a warrior he is." After the blood clot was gone, it was finally time to return home. Mirko and his parents arrived in Santa Cruz, Bolivia on May 26, 2017, just one day before Mother's Day. They celebrated the holiday and Mirko's health six months after their adventure began in Texas.

The surgery and treatment was a success. Mirko is now seizure-free. His mental faculties are intact and he is able to speak. Physical therapy helped Mirko regain the right side of his body and he is now able to walk.

"We used to have a normal life," Tatiana said. "We would go to the cinema. To the mall. We had a normal family. A year later, everything changed because of epilepsy. We have a normal life again now. We are just so thankful to God for Cook Children's and everything they have done for us. We really are."

After all, what's a great adventure without a happy ending.

Celebrating Cook Children's Centennial

Cook Children's is turning 100 and will be celebrating all year! Don't miss out on the fun throughout 2018. Enjoy unique stories, parades, special guests, and community events across Fort Worth. We hope that you can share in some our celebrations because you're the 1 in our 100!

Celebrate with us