Spec. MD. Sevil Akbaba Turkoglu

As a 72-year-old retired history professor, I approached therapy with deep skepticism after my wife's passing. Dr. Sevil didn't just listen, she excavated. Over six months, she helped me navigate grief using what she called 'narrative reconstruction,' weaving my love of Byzantine history into the process. She once brought a replica of an ancient compass to our session, explaining how civilizations oriented themselves after collapse. That moment reoriented me. At Medical Park Izmir, her office feels like a scholar's study, not a clinic. She prescribed no medication, only what she termed 'structured remembrance.' My children say they have their father back.

Our 8-year-old son Leo began having what his school called 'catastrophic meltdowns', screaming that his bones were turning to glass. Four specialists suggested everything from autism to rare syndromes. Dr. Sevil spent our first session not with Leo, but observing him through a one-way mirror as he played with kinetic sand. 'He's not melting down,' she told us, 'he's having somatic prophecies.' She diagnosed pediatric somatic symptom disorder with mystical features. Her treatment involved creating 'counter-prophecies' through collaborative storytelling. She worked with Leo to illustrate a comic where the glass bones became crystalline armor. After three months, the episodes reduced by 80%. She speaks to children in the language of their own imaginations.

I was admitted to Medical Park Izmir's emergency psychiatric unit after a dissociative episode at the opera, I conducted an invisible orchestra for 45 minutes before security intervened. Dr. Sevil was the on-call specialist. While others saw psychosis, she identified a rare fugue state triggered by musical hyper-association. Her emergency intervention involved what she called 'harmonic grounding', she had me listen to specific frequencies through headphones while tracing mandalas. Most remarkably, she contacted my childhood piano teacher in Ankara to confirm I'd had similar episodes at age seven. Her follow-up protocol integrates music therapy with neurofeedback. She doesn't just treat symptoms; she decodes the individual's unique neurological dialect.

As a maritime lawyer, I sought Dr. Sevil for what I thought was routine stress management. During our third session, while discussing a difficult case, I mentioned in passing that I kept dreaming of drowning in contracts. She paused and asked, 'When did you almost drown?' I'd forgotten, a sailing accident at age fourteen. She identified this as a somatic memory manifesting as professional burnout. Her treatment involved 'metaphor reversal therapy', we physically rewrote legal documents using waterproof ink by the hospital's therapeutic pool. She collaborated with a neurologist to map how trauma metaphors embed in professional cognition. Now I mediate ship dispute cases, and she occasionally consults on the psychological dimensions of maritime law. She finds the submerged story beneath the presented one.