M.D. Sedat Özkaya Reviews

My 82-year-old mother, visiting from Germany, suddenly developed severe abdominal pain and confusion late one evening. We rushed her to Bodrum Hospital, terrified. Dr. Sedat Özkaya met us in the ER with a calm, commanding presence that immediately settled our panic. He didn't just see an elderly patient; he saw my mother. His rapid assessment, conducted with both urgency and profound gentleness, pinpointed a strangulated hernia—a true surgical emergency. He explained the situation to us in clear Turkish-German mix, never condescending, while simultaneously orchestrating the OR team. His post-op follow-up was just as attentive; he'd sit on the edge of her bed, holding her hand while explaining her progress. He saved her life with technical brilliance, but he saved our family's peace with his humanity.

Our 7-year-old son, Kerem, took a bad fall from his bicycle on a rocky path, resulting in a deep, jagged laceration on his forearm and a possible wrist fracture. The scene was chaotic—blood, tears, and a child's sheer terror. Dr. Özkaya transformed the trauma bay into a sanctuary. He didn't approach as just a doctor, but almost as a fellow adventurer, asking Kerem about his 'big jump.' While expertly assessing the injury, he narrated a story about a pirate getting a 'bravery tattoo,' seamlessly turning wound cleaning and suturing into part of the tale. His skill with pediatric sedation was so smooth Kerem felt no pain. He even drew a small bandage-shaped pirate ship on the cast. For a child's trauma, he treated the fear first, the injury second, and left us with a son who felt like a hero, not a victim.

I'm a commercial diver working on the Bodrum coast. During a routine underwater weld, a equipment malfunction caused a severe hydraulic injection injury to my palm—a tiny puncture with potentially catastrophic consequences, forcing tissue-deep contaminants. This is a rare, ticking-time-bomb injury many might miss. Dr. Özkaya, upon my rushed entry to the ER, recognized it instantly. His demeanor shifted to focused intensity. He explained with gritty clarity how the invisible oil under my skin could cause necrosis and loss of the hand if not aggressively treated NOW. He performed an extensive surgical decompression and debridement in the middle of the night, meticulously clearing every tract. His post-op protocol was brutally honest about the recovery pain and rigorous hand therapy needed, but his confidence was unwavering. He didn't just stitch me up; he salvaged my career and my livelihood.

What started as a follow-up visit for a minor ankle sprain I'd seen Dr. Özkaya for turned into something that likely saved me from a silent disaster. During the routine check, he noticed a subtle, persistent cough I'd dismissed as 'allergies.' His trauma-trained instinct for patterns kicked in outside the obvious injury. With gentle but firm questioning about my family history (which includes clotting disorders) and a keen observation of my slight shortness of breath when climbing onto the exam table, he suspected a pulmonary embolism. I thought he was overreacting. He insisted on immediate tests. The CT angiogram confirmed multiple small PEs. His ability to see the forest for the trees—to look beyond the healed ankle and listen to the body's quieter alarms—turned a routine follow-up into a life-saving intervention. His vigilance is a gift.