Kent Medical Center Bayraklı Reviews

I'm a 78-year-old retired teacher who had given up on reading. My world had shrunk to blurry shapes and frustrating guesses. Dr. Kantarcı didn't just see a cataract; he saw a person who missed books. His approach was methodical yet gentle, explaining the premium lens options in Turkish so clear my grandson could understand. The surgery at Kent Medical Center felt like a coordinated ballet—no pain, just quiet professionalism. When he removed the patch the next day, I didn't just see his face; I saw the texture of his white coat, the grain of the wood door. I cried holding a newspaper. He gave me back my independence. This wasn't just medical care; it was restoration of dignity.

Our 8-year-old son developed a sudden, alarming turn in his right eye after a fever. Panicked, we went to the emergency clinic at Bayraklı. Dr. Mehmet Kantarcı examined him with this incredible calm—using a puppet to demonstrate the eye drops, calling the diagnostic machine a 'space scanner.' He diagnosed accommodative esotropia, not a neurological issue we feared. His explanation was a relief: 'His eye muscles just got tired from being sick.' The treatment plan involved glasses and vision therapy, no surgery. He spoke directly to our son, making him the 'captain of the eye team.' Six months later, the turn is gone. Dr. Kantarcı turned a childhood trauma into an adventure. We are forever grateful.

As a graphic designer, my vision is my livelihood. I noticed subtle distortions in straight lines—a nightmare for my work. Routine checkups elsewhere dismissed it as screen fatigue. Dr. Kantarcı, during a comprehensive exam, was suspiciously thorough. He spent an extra 20 minutes with advanced OCT imaging and identified early-stage keratoconus in my left eye, something previous doctors missed. He mapped out a long-term, conservative plan involving corneal cross-linking to halt progression, carefully explaining the science behind it. He treated me as a collaborator, discussing how to protect my career. This wasn't a quick prescription; it was a strategic defense of my future. His precision and proactive care saved my profession.

Following a complex retinal detachment surgery performed by Dr. Kantarcı, my follow-up visits have been revelations in aftercare. The surgery itself was high-stakes, but the meticulous follow-up is what astounds me. He doesn't just check the chart; he reviews the high-resolution scans with me on the screen, pointing out where the retina has reattached and explaining the healing process. Last visit, he noticed minute inflammation others might overlook and adjusted my drop regimen preemptively. His assistant coordinates everything seamlessly. There's no rushing. He remembers small personal details from previous conversations. This consistent, detailed attention post-major surgery makes you feel securely held in his care, not just processed. It's the definition of excellence.

As a 72-year-old retired ship captain with severe spinal stenosis, I'd resigned myself to a life of pain and immobility. Dr. Yetener didn't just treat my spine—she understood my need to walk the docks again. Her innovative combination of aquatic therapy and targeted nerve blocks gave me back my sea legs. Six months later, I'm leading coastal walking tours.

My 8-year-old daughter developed complex regional pain syndrome after a playground fall. Multiple doctors offered only medication. Dr. Yetener created a 'pain superhero' narrative with graded motor imagery therapy, turning rehabilitation into a game. She transformed fear into empowerment—my child now teaches her classmates about nerve pathways.

After a motorcycle accident left me with brachial plexus damage at 29, I faced permanent arm paralysis. Dr. Yetener pioneered a hybrid approach combining electrical stimulation with mirror therapy. The breakthrough came when she noticed my guitar calluses and integrated music therapy. I've regained 80% function and performed at a local cafe last month.

As a competitive freediver with barotrauma-induced neurological damage, I needed someone who understood both medicine and extreme pressure environments. Dr. Yetener collaborated with hyperbaric specialists to design a decompression-informed rehabilitation protocol. She didn't just restore function—she preserved my ability to dive to 40 meters.

My 8-year-old son, Ali, was complaining of strange chest flutters during soccer practice. Most pediatricians dismissed it as 'growing pains,' but Dr. Şahin at Kent Medical Center Bayraklı took it seriously from the moment we walked in. He has this incredible way with children—he showed Ali the ultrasound screen, calling his heart 'a little superhero engine.' He diagnosed a minor but significant arrhythmia that others had missed. His treatment plan involved careful monitoring and adjusted activity, not just medication. Ali now calls him 'the heart wizard.' We traveled from Antalya for this consultation, and it was worth every kilometer.

I'm a 42-year-old marathon runner, and during a routine checkup, Dr. Şahin noticed an anomaly in my ECG that my previous cardiologist had labeled an 'athlete's heart variant.' He wasn't satisfied. He ordered a specific, advanced stress echocardiogram that revealed early-stage hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, a condition I had no symptoms for. His approach was a masterclass in proactive care. He didn't just say 'stop running.' He collaborated with a sports physician to design a new, safe training regimen for me. He explained the complex electrophysiology using simple analogies about electrical circuits. He didn't just save my life; he saved my passion with careful, scientific precision.

My 91-year-old mother, Gülseren, was admitted through the emergency department with severe fluid retention and breathlessness. Other doctors saw a frail, elderly woman with a long list of medications. Dr. Şahin saw a person. In the emergency room, amidst the chaos, he knelt by her gurney, held her hand, and spoke directly to her. He untangled her complex medication list like a detective, identifying a harmful interaction between drugs prescribed by different specialists. He didn't just adjust her heart failure meds; he became her care coordinator. His follow-up is relentless—his assistant calls us weekly to check her weight. He treats her with a respect that has given her a new will to fight. It's not just cardiology; it's profound humanity.

I was the 'complex surgery' case. A rare congenital defect in my coronary artery required a high-risk, hybrid procedure—part catheterization, part minimally invasive surgery. Dr. Şahin didn't just present the option; he spent an hour with me and my wife drawing the anatomy on a whiteboard, explaining the risks of surgery versus the risks of doing nothing in stark, honest detail. He assembled the team himself, bringing in a specific vascular surgeon from another city he trusted. The day of the procedure, his calm was contagious. My follow-up visits are meticulous; he reviews every data point from my implantable monitor. He doesn't say 'the surgery was a success, goodbye.' He says, 'Now we enter the most important phase: monitoring and optimizing your new pathway.' He is an architect, building a long-term plan, not just a technician fixing a pipe.

My family and I are grateful for the care we received from Dr. dr Ruken Kuzu. The hospital staff was also very supportive.

The recovery process was smooth thanks to Dr. dr Ruken Kuzu's expertise. Highly recommend for dietary treatment.

Dr. dr Ruken Kuzu provided exceptional care for my dietary condition. The treatment was personalized and effective.

I was impressed by the professional approach at Kent Medical Center Bayraklı. Dr. dr Ruken Kuzu explained everything clearly and made me feel comfortable.

My 88-year-old mother, who has complex geriatric needs often overlooked in pediatrics, was visiting from out of town when she developed a severe respiratory infection. In desperation, I contacted Dr. Paksoy's clinic. Not only did he agree to see her, but he spent an hour meticulously reviewing her extensive medication list from her home geriatrician, identifying a dangerous interaction everyone else had missed. His cross-generational diagnostic approach was breathtaking. He coordinated with her specialist 500km away and designed a transitional care plan. His pediatric clinic became a sanctuary of holistic care for my elderly mother. This wasn't just medicine; it was intellectual compassion across medical silos.

Our 3-week-old newborn, Elif, stopped feeding and turned a worrying shade of gray. The ER was chaotic, but Dr. Paksoy, who was on call, entered like a calm storm. He diagnosed a rare congenital heart defect—coarctation of the aorta—within minutes, not with panic, but with terrifying, quiet certainty. He didn't just shout orders; he drew a simple diagram on a tissue for us, explaining the plumbing of our daughter's heart. He personally escorted us to the pediatric ICU, his hand on the incubator. The surgery was successful, and he visited every day, not as the surgeon, but as our guide. He remembers Elif's 'feisty spirit' and checks her scar not with a scanner, but with his fingers, feeling for the story it tells.

For our 7-year-old son, Leo, diagnosed with high-functioning autism, routine checkups are sensory nightmares. Dr. Paksoy transformed the entire experience. At our first visit, he didn't approach Leo. He sat on the floor and started assembling a perplexing mechanical puzzle from his desk drawer, speaking softly about the gears. Leo was drawn in. The 'checkup' happened while they solved the puzzle together—heartbeat listened to through a stuffed animal's ear, throat checked after a 'roar' for the puzzle lion. He prescribes not just vitamins, but specific playgrounds for social interaction and writes 'doctor's orders' for extra screen time when Leo needs downtime. He treats the child, not the chart.

Our 14-year-old daughter, Merve, was a champion swimmer until debilitating, unexplained abdominal pain sidelined her. After six months of specialists, tests, and whispers of 'it's psychological,' we saw Dr. Paksoy. He dismissed none of the previous work but started fresh. He conducted the exam in reverse, starting with a 40-minute conversation about school stress, team dynamics, and diet changes during training. He then hypothesized it was a rare exercise-induced visceral hypersensitivity. His treatment plan was unorthodox: a two-week break from all medical talk, a food and mood diary, and gentle reintroduction of activity not as training, but as play. He framed her not as a broken athlete, but as a whole person under strain. The pain resolved. He gave her her sport back by first making her a person again.