Assoc. Prof. M.D. Bahar Temur

As an 82-year-old with severe leg ulcers that three other clinics had given up on, I was preparing for amputation when my daughter insisted we see Dr. Temur. Her approach was unlike anything I'd experienced—she spent 45 minutes just examining the blood flow patterns in my feet with a special ultrasound wand, muttering calculations to herself. Instead of immediate surgery, she designed a bizarre but effective regimen: specialized compression wraps changed every two days, along with a medication that she said would 're-educate' my smallest blood vessels. After eight weeks, the ulcers that hadn't healed in two years began closing. She performed a minor procedure to redirect a tiny artery, and now I'm walking without pain. Her method felt like vascular origami—precise, unconventional, and brilliant.

Our 9-year-old son developed sudden, terrifying blue discoloration in his right hand after a minor fall. The ER pediatrician was baffled, calling it 'possibly Raynaud's but too severe.' Dr. Temur arrived at midnight, still in her theater clothes from another surgery. She diagnosed it as a rare arterial entrapment from an abnormal muscle band—something usually seen in athletes, not children. What struck us was how she explained it to our son using a garden hose analogy, letting him hold the ultrasound probe to see his own 'squeezed pipe.' The emergency surgery lasted only 90 minutes; she released the constriction through a incision smaller than a paper cut. At follow-up, she taught him finger circulation exercises she called 'vascular piano scales.' Her blend of emergency expertise and pediatric sensitivity was extraordinary.

I'm a 47-year-old marathon runner who failed a routine insurance physical due to an abdominal aortic aneurysm discovered incidentally. Dr. Temur's consultation felt more like an engineering review than a medical appointment. She rejected the standard open surgery, instead designing a custom fenestrated stent graft that would preserve blood flow to my kidney arteries during running. The most remarkable part was her simulation lab—she showed me a 3D-printed model of my own aorta and demonstrated how the stent would deploy. The minimally invasive procedure felt surreal; I was awake with sedation, watching on screen as she navigated the catheter. Six months later, I completed a half-marathon. Her follow-up protocol involves quarterly ultrasound 'stress tests' that monitor how the graft handles impact forces—a protocol she apparently developed herself.

My husband arrived at Acibadem Atakent with what looked like a simple varicose vein rupture—blood was literally spraying rhythmically from his calf. The emergency team couldn't control it. Dr. Temur, who happened to be finishing a clinic, recognized it immediately as a rare arteriovenous fistula rupture. Instead of rushing to surgery, she did something counterintuitive: she applied precise ultrasound-guided pressure at EXACTLY the connecting point between artery and vein, while simultaneously injecting a clotting agent through a needle thinner than a hair. The bleeding stopped in three minutes. She later explained that open surgery would have destroyed the surrounding tissue; her method preserved everything. The repair was completed electively the next day through two needle punctures. Her ability to diagnose under pressure and execute a minimally invasive solution in an active hemorrhage situation likely saved his leg.