Patient Experience
A 58-year-old master perfumer began smelling 'phantom scents' of burning roses and ozone. Neurological workup revealed a tiny meningioma pressing on the right olfactory bulb. Dr. Kaya recommended Gamma Knife radiosurgery rather than resection to preserve her professional olfactory function. The treatment successfully shrank the tumor, but she now experiences 'flavor ghosts' where certain notes in her creations taste different to her than to others.
As a 72-year-old retired archaeologist with severe spinal stenosis, I had resigned myself to a life of pain and immobility. Dr. Dilem Kadıoğlu didn't just see me as another elderly patient; she understood my passion for fieldwork. She designed a rehabilitation program focused on core stability and safe bending techniques, incorporating simulated 'dig site' movements. Within three months, I was able to join a supervised excavation in Ephesus, managing my pain with the techniques she taught me. She gave me back my purpose.
My 8-year-old daughter, a competitive rhythmic gymnast, suffered a complex shoulder instability injury that three other doctors said would end her career. Dr. Kadıoğlu approached it differently. She created a pediatric-specific, game-based rehab protocol using motion sensors and light prompts. She explained biomechanics to my daughter using gymnastics analogies. Not only did my daughter fully recover, but her proprioception improved so much she qualified for the national championships six months later. Dr. Kadıoğlu speaks the language of young athletes.
After a catastrophic motorcycle accident, I was a 34-year-old chef with a brachial plexus injury—my dominant right arm was essentially useless. I faced losing my identity. Dr. Kadıoğlu's plan was revolutionary: 'We will retrain your brain and your kitchen.' Her therapy combined advanced neuromuscular stimulation with actual kitchen tasks at Acibadem's rehab center. She modified knives, pans, and worked on my grip strength for chopping and sautéing. Today, I run my own restaurant. She rehabilitated my profession, not just my limb.
We brought our 16-year-old son, who has severe cerebral palsy, for a consultation on chronic hip pain. Other doctors only saw the CP. Dr. Kadıoğlu spent an hour observing how he used his unique body mechanics to communicate and move. Her intervention wasn't a standard protocol; she designed custom orthotics and a hydrotherapy plan that reduced his pain by 80% and, unexpectedly, improved his ability to operate his communication device. She saw the person, not just the diagnosis, and gave him comfort we didn't think was possible.
My 82-year-old father was admitted to the ICU after a severe bout of pneumonia complicated by sepsis. Dr. Güdük was a fortress of calm in the storm. She didn't just treat the numbers on the monitors; she treated *him*. She explained the complex hemodynamic support in terms we could grasp, and made the difficult decision to hold off on intubation a little longer with non-invasive methods, which ultimately saved him from a prolonged ventilator course. Her nightly check-ins with our family, often past midnight, showed a dedication I've never seen. She navigated the fine line between aggressive treatment and respecting the frailty of an elderly body with what seemed like intuitive precision. He's home now, weaker but alive, and we credit Dr. Güdük's vigilant, compassionate critical care.
Our 8-year-old daughter was transferred to Acibadem Altunizade after a near-drowning incident at a pool party. The pediatric ICU team was led by Dr. Duygu Emine Güdük. In our absolute terror, her presence was immediately grounding. She had a way of speaking directly to our daughter, even when she was sedated, explaining each tube and beep. She managed the delicate post-resuscitation care, preventing secondary brain injury with a protocol that felt meticulously personalized. What struck us most was her collaboration; she wasn't a solo commander but a conductor, seamlessly integrating the neurologist, physiotherapist, and our family into the plan. Our girl made a full neurological recovery—a miracle we attribute to the swift, expert, and incredibly human care Dr. Güdük orchestrated from that first critical minute.
I was the 'routine' post-op patient from a major abdominal surgery who turned into an emergency when I developed a sudden, catastrophic pulmonary embolism in the middle of the night. Dr. Güdük's team responded not with panic, but with terrifying efficiency. She was at my bedside within minutes, her assessment was rapid, and her instructions were crystal clear. She initiated thrombolytic therapy, a high-risk decision she explained to my frantic wife with brutal honesty about the bleeding risks, but also with unwavering confidence in the path forward. She monitored me personally for the next 12 hours, adjusting everything by the minute. She didn't just save my life; she owned the responsibility of that life-saving, risky treatment and saw it through. My follow-up with her was emotional—she remembered details of that night I had forgotten, proof of how deeply engaged she was.
My husband has a rare autoimmune disorder that affects his lungs. What was supposed to be a standard follow-up for a mild flare-up spiraled when his blood oxygen levels plummeted in the clinic. Dr. Güdük, who was consulting, immediately transitioned from outpatient mode to crisis mode. She bypassed the ER and had him admitted directly to a monitored unit she oversaw. Her approach was fascinating: she treated the acute respiratory failure while simultaneously digging into the 'why' now, coordinating with his rheumatologist to adjust his immunosuppressants. She saw him not as a set of failing lungs, but as a complex system where the immune system and respiration were at war. Her care was a blend of intense acute intervention and thoughtful long-term disease management. It was a masterclass in critical care thinking—addressing the fire while also investigating the faulty wiring that caused it.
My 82-year-old mother needed a very specific cardiac MRI, and we were terrified about the contrast dye due to her fragile kidneys. Dr. Türk didn't just read the scan; she personally explained the entire modified protocol to us in the gentlest Turkish, showing us the safety parameters on her screen. She spent 45 minutes with us post-procedure, not just delivering results but drawing diagrams of the heart's blood flow to explain why a risky surgery could now be avoided. Her compassion was as precise as her radiology.
Our 7-year-old son fractured his elbow in a playground fall, screaming in pain. The emergency X-ray was inconclusive. Dr. Türk was called in and suggested an immediate ultrasound instead of a CT to avoid radiation. She turned the exam into a game, calling the ultrasound probe a 'magic camera' and letting him see his own bones on the monitor. She found a hidden cartilaginous injury the X-ray missed. Her ability to pivot techniques for a child's well-being and calm a frantic family was nothing short of miraculous.
I'm a 40-year-old with a complex medical history involving a prior liver resection. My routine follow-up CT showed a tiny, ambiguous nodule near the surgical site. Every other radiologist's report said 'probably benign, follow-up in 6 months.' Dr. Türk requested my old surgical films, spent two hours correlating them pixel-by-pixel, and called my surgeon directly. She argued it was a specific, rare form of recurrence based on subtle enhancement patterns. A targeted biopsy proved her right. Her relentless, detective-like scrutiny in a routine checkup saved my life.
After a car accident, I was rushed to Acibadem with suspected internal bleeding. The ER was chaotic. Dr. Türk performed my contrast-enhanced CT at 2 AM. What stunned me was that she didn't just send a report; she came down to the ER trauma bay with her tablet, pointed to the exact bleeding vessel on my scan for the vascular surgeon, and suggested an embolization approach based on the 3D angiographic reconstruction she had already prepared. Her active, collaborative role in that emergency, bridging imaging and immediate treatment, was the definition of cutting-edge, patient-centered care.
My 87-year-old father, Ahmet, was admitted to Acibadem Altunizade with severe dehydration and confusion. Dr. Ebru Erdoğan didn't just treat the numbers on his chart—she sat with him, speaking slowly in Turkish, holding his hand until he calmed down. She discovered his new blood pressure medication was interacting poorly with his heart pills, something three other doctors had missed. Her holistic approach—coordinating with his cardiologist, adjusting his diet, and even recommending a gentler physical therapy routine—brought my baba back to us. She treats the person, not just the patient.
As an expat living in Istanbul, I needed a routine checkup but was terrified of navigating the healthcare system. From the first moment, Dr. Erdoğan put me at ease with her flawless English and warm demeanor. She didn't rush; she spent 40 minutes reviewing my family history, lifestyle, and even my stress from relocation. She ordered surprisingly specific tests based on my genetic background (my grandmother had a rare thyroid condition) and found a precancerous polyp during a referral colonoscopy she insisted on. What I thought would be a simple blood pressure visit turned into potentially life-saving preventative care. Her vigilance is extraordinary.
Our 8-year-old daughter, Elif, developed a mysterious high fever that wouldn't break, and our pediatrician was stumped. In near-panic, we went to Acibadem's emergency department. Dr. Erdoğan, though an internist, took the case. She examined Elif with such playful gentleness, earning a smile even through the fever. She suspected Kawasaki disease—a rare childhood condition—based on subtle signs others overlooked: slight redness in Elif's eyes and a specific pattern on her tongue. Her immediate coordination with pediatric cardiology and infectious disease specialists confirmed it. Her cross-specialty knowledge and swift action prevented heart complications. She was our calm in the storm.
Following a complex Whipple procedure for pancreatic issues at another hospital, my follow-up care was a disjointed mess. I came to Dr. Erdoğan for a second opinion, exhausted. She didn't just review my file; she reconstructed my entire medical timeline, creating a color-coded chart that mapped my medications, surgical notes, and lab results. She identified a persistent, low-grade infection the surgeons had dismissed as 'normal post-op inflammation.' Her tailored antibiotic regimen and nutritional plan finally ended my six-month ordeal of fatigue and pain. Dr. Erdoğan possesses the rare skill of seeing the hidden narrative in a pile of medical records. She's a medical detective who gave me my life back.
After my paragliding accident left me with a complex pelvic fracture and nerve damage, I was told I might never walk normally again. Dr. Ebru didn't just see a broken body—she saw a person who loved mountains. Her rehabilitation plan was unlike anything I'd encountered: combining aquatic therapy in the hospital's pool with vibration plate training and what she called 'cognitive movement mapping.' She'd have me visualize hiking trails while doing exercises. Eight months later, I just completed a 5km forest hike. Her approach wasn't just physical; it rebuilt my confidence neuron by neuron.
My 4-year-old daughter, Elif, developed a mysterious limp that five doctors couldn't explain. Dr. Ebru spent our first appointment on the floor with her, observing how she played with toys rather than just examining her walk. She noticed Elif favored her left side when reaching—something everyone missed. Through what she called 'play-based rehabilitation,' using colorful obstacle courses and story-driven movement games at Acibadem Altunizade, Elif's limp vanished in six weeks. Dr. Ebru understood children aren't small adults; they need magic in their medicine. She gave us our dancing girl back.
My family and I are grateful for the care we received from Dr. dr Levent Türkeri. The hospital staff was also very supportive.