Dr. Şükrü Yazar

As a 72-year-old with severe Dupuytren's contracture in both hands, I had given up on ever holding my grandchildren's hands properly again. Dr. Şükrü Yazar didn't just see 'an elderly patient'—he saw a grandmother who wanted to bake cookies and write letters. His approach was methodical yet deeply human. He performed a selective fasciectomy with such precision that I regained 95% mobility. What truly moved me was his post-op care: he personally taught me the eccentric hand exercises, calling them 'grandma's magic finger dances.' At Acibadem Altunizade, they treated my age not as a limitation but as a reason for extra care. Six months later, I'm knitting scarves for my entire family.

Our 8-year-old son was born with a significant congenital ear deformity (microtia) that made him the target of schoolyard cruelty. We consulted Dr. Yazar after three other surgeons offered cookie-cutter solutions. He spent 45 minutes just playing with our son, building Lego towers while explaining ear anatomy in child-friendly terms. His two-stage auricular reconstruction used rib cartilage sculpting—but his real artistry was in the psychological preparation. He created a 'superhero ear' narrative where our son was getting his 'power receiver.' The surgical result is medically brilliant, but the emotional transformation—seeing our child look in the mirror and smile for the first time—that's the miracle. Follow-ups feel like visiting a favorite uncle who happens to be a surgical genius.

I arrived at Acibadem Altunizade's ER at midnight after a horrific kitchen accident—a ceramic shard had severed my facial nerve and created a complex laceration from cheekbone to jawline. The resident on call panicked, but Dr. Yazar arrived within 20 minutes, still in street clothes. What followed was a 5-hour emergency reconstructive surgery that felt like watching a master watchmaker work. He didn't just close a wound; he realigned microscopic nerve pathways and layered muscle repair to preserve expression. His post-op note read: 'Priority 1: Smile restoration. Priority 2: Symmetry. Priority 3: Minimal scarring.' A year later, I have a barely-visible line and full facial movement. He turned trauma into artistry.

As a transgender woman seeking facial feminization surgery, I approached countless surgeons who either fetishized or medicalized my journey. Dr. Yazar was different. His consultation felt like collaborative art direction—'What essence of you do you want to see reflected?' He proposed a nuanced approach: orbital rim reduction, tracheal shave, and soft tissue repositioning that would work with my existing anatomy rather than against it. During the 7-hour surgery at Acibadem, he played my chosen music playlist in the OR. The recovery was challenging, but his team provided 24/7 access via a dedicated messaging portal. Now, when I look in the mirror, I don't see 'surgery'—I see myself, finally. His work isn't just technical; it's deeply respectful of human identity.