Dr. Duygu Gür Ünal

Our 11-day-old granddaughter, Elif, developed a terrifying high fever and refused to feed. It was midnight, and we were panicked. Dr. Duygu met us at Gokturk Medical Center's emergency pediatric unit with astonishing calm. She didn't just treat a fever; she explained neonatal sepsis possibilities to us, elderly grandparents caring for her while parents were abroad, with such gentle clarity. Her hands were steady during the lumbar puncture, her voice a constant reassurance. Elif spent three days under her watchful eye. Dr. Duygu called us each evening with updates in simple terms. She turned our fear into understanding. Elif is now a chubby 3-month-old, and we see not just a doctor, but a guardian angel who speaks the language of worried hearts.

My 8-year-old son, Kaan, has a rare metabolic disorder that requires a highly specialized, multidisciplinary surgical approach for a necessary procedure. We'd consulted several hospitals where they treated the surgery as routine. Dr. Ünal was different. At our first consultation, she had already convened with a metabolic specialist and an anesthesiologist familiar with his condition. She drew a comic-style flowchart for Kaan, calling his mitochondria 'little power factories' and the surgery 'a repair mission.' Her pre-op preparation was meticulous—adjusting his diet, timing medications, planning for every metabolic hiccup. The surgery was successful, but her genius was in the recovery. She anticipated a metabolic crisis on post-op day two and had the intervention ready before it fully manifested. She doesn't just practice pediatrics; she engineers safety nets for complex little lives.

This was supposed to be a simple 2-year routine checkup for my daughter, Ayla. Dr. Duygu, however, conducts what I call 'whole-child reviews.' While checking Ayla's ears, she noticed a subtle, inconsistent lack of eye contact when Ayla was babbling to her toy. With incredible sensitivity, she asked about Ayla's social play and communication milestones, not in a worried way, but with curious observation. She suggested a few developmental monitoring strategies and a gentle, play-based follow-up in 6 months instead of a year. She framed it as 'understanding Ayla's unique wiring,' not as a problem. That visit wasn't a checkbox; it was a masterclass in attentive, preventive care. She sees what other doctors just glance over. We left not with a bill of health, but with a roadmap to support our child's best development.

Our 15-year-old son, Deniz, a competitive swimmer, developed severe, recurrent shoulder pain dismissed elsewhere as 'growing pains.' Dr. Gür Ünal, in her clinic at Gokturk, spent the first 20 minutes just watching videos of his stroke and asking him about his training load. She palpated not just the shoulder, but his core and scapular stability. Her diagnosis wasn't a single injury; it was a kinetic chain imbalance exacerbated by growth spurts and overtraining. She created a phased rehab plan that involved his coach, explained the biomechanics to Deniz in a way that made him feel like an athlete, not a patient, and scheduled brief, targeted follow-ups every two weeks to adjust the plan. She treated the teenager, not just the joint. His pain is gone, and his personal bests are improving. She's the pediatrician who thinks like a sports medicine specialist and a life coach combined.