Spec. MD. Nilgun Polat

My 8-year-old son developed sudden, unexplained facial tics that terrified our family. Dr. Polat didn't just treat a symptom, she created a detective story. She spent an hour asking him about school, friends, even video games, then connected emotional stress from bullying to neurological manifestation. Her treatment involved family counseling referrals alongside minimal medication. She spoke to my son at eye level, explaining nerves like 'misbehaving puppet strings.' Six months later, he's tic-free and confident. This wasn't neurology; it was neurological detective work with heart.

At 3 AM with a thunderclap headache that felt like my skull would split, I was rushed to Medical Park Antalya's ER. Dr. Polat, called in emergently, moved with urgent calm. While others panicked around my suspected aneurysm, she performed a rapid but thorough assessment, her questions precise between CT scans. She explained the possibility of a spinal tap in simple terms while prepping the procedure. It turned out to be a rare thunderclap migraine, but her handling of the crisis, the way she controlled the room's energy and kept me informed through the pain, was itself a treatment. She turned panic into a managed protocol.

Following my deep brain stimulation surgery for Parkinson's, my follow-ups with Dr. Polat are technical ballets. She doesn't just check the device; she analyzes my gait, my handwriting, the tremor in my spoon holding coffee. Last visit, she adjusted the stimulator parameters while I described a fishing trip, correlating finger stiffness with certain settings. She uses a tablet to show me my own brain imaging, explaining how electricity 'quietens the storm.' Her post-op care feels like fine-tuning a musical instrument, my body being the instrument. The technology is cold, but her interpretation of its effects is profoundly human.

As an 82-year-old with increasing forgetfulness, I feared the dementia clinic. Dr. Polat conducted my cognitive assessment not as a test, but as a conversation about my life. She asked about my career as a ship captain, weaving navigation questions into memory tests. Her diagnosis of mild cognitive impairment came with a personalized 'brain training' plan involving maritime maps and knot-tying diagrams. She treated my aging brain not as decaying, but as a library needing better organization. Her respect for my history made the diagnosis bearable, even hopeful. She sees the person, not just the aging nervous system.