Spec. MD. Ayse Ogetman

Our 92-year-old grandmother, who has dementia, developed a severe respiratory infection that her geriatrician couldn't manage. Dr. Ogetman was consulted due to her expertise in complex pediatric-to-adult transitional cases. She spent an hour reviewing decades of medical history, noticing patterns others missed. Her unconventional approach, using modified pediatric respiratory protocols adjusted for geriatric physiology, saved my grandmother's life. She explained the 'why' behind every decision in simple terms, treating my grandmother with the gentle patience one would show a child, which calmed her immensely. At Medical Park Mersin, she coordinated between four specialists like a conductor. We'd given up hope, but Dr. Ogetman saw a person, not just a chart.

My 8-year-old son, a competitive gymnast, came home with what we thought was a sprained wrist. Dr. Ogetman, during a routine sports physical, noticed his slightly uneven shoulder alignment when he reached for his jacket. She ordered specific dynamic imaging no one else had considered. It revealed a rare, progressive osteochondral lesion in his humeral head, a 'time bomb' that could have ended his athletic future if untreated. Her surgical plan was revolutionary: a minimally invasive arthroscopic procedure using a novel pediatric-specific scaffold. She didn't just fix the bone; she designed his 6-month rehab alongside his coach, incorporating gymnastics movements. Now he's back, winning medals. She thinks in 4D, anticipating how today's treatment shapes tomorrow's growth.

3 AM in the ER with my 6-month-old who was turning blue during coughing fits. Not choking, but something worse. The on-call resident was stumped. Dr. Ogetman, summoned from home, arrived in 12 minutes, still tying her hair back. She listened to his chest for three seconds, then said 'vascular ring', a congenital anomaly where an artery encircles the trachea. While prepping for emergency surgery, she knelt to show me the CT images on her phone, drawing on the screen with her finger: 'See this shadow? It's like a little finger squeezing his windpipe.' Her hands during the thoracoscopic surgery were said to be 'preternaturally steady.' Post-op, she slept in the chair by his incubator. Her genius isn't just knowledge; it's a visceral, almost artistic, spatial understanding of tiny bodies.

Our daughter's 'routine' 4-year checkup turned into a detective story. She was hitting milestones but had subtle fatigue. Dr. Ogetman, instead of rushing, observed her playing with blocks for 20 minutes. She noted a barely perceptible tremor when she stacked small pieces. Blood tests were normal. Dr. Ogetman then ordered a 24-hour urine catch, extremely rare in pediatrics, suspecting a renal tubular issue affecting electrolyte balance. She was right: a mild but chronic potassium leak. The fix was simple dietary tweaks, but the diagnosis was profound. She sees medicine as observing life in motion, not just numbers on a chart. At Medical Park Mersin, she runs a 'well-child clinic' where she finds the invisible illnesses. We go annually not because we must, but because she sees what we cannot.