Prof. MD. Sedat Kalaycioglu Reviews

My 82-year-old mother, Fatma, was deemed inoperable by three other surgeons due to her age and a calcified aortic valve. Professor Kalaycioglu didn't see an age, he saw a person. He explained a TAVI procedure with such clarity, using his hands to show how the new valve would unfold. The surgery at Medical Park Mersin was at dawn. He called me himself that afternoon, his voice calm: 'Your mother is asking for her tea.' That simple sentence held our world together. Her recovery was swift; she's now tending her roses. He possesses not just surgical mastery, but a profound humanity that heals beyond the physical.

Our 9-year-old son, Ali, was born with a ventricular septal defect. We lived for years with the 'whooshing' murmur and the fear it carried. Professor Sedat Bey has a way with children, he didn't talk to us over Ali's head. He got down on one knee, showed Ali the cartoon diagram of a heart, and called the hole a 'secret tunnel that needs closing.' The minimally invasive surgery felt like a miracle. No large scar, just a tiny incision. At the follow-up, when he put the stethoscope on Ali's chest and smiled, saying, 'Silence. Perfect silence,' my wife and I wept. He gave our boy the gift of a normal, noisy childhood.

It was a Thursday. My husband, a 47-year-old otherwise healthy teacher, had sudden, crushing chest pain. The ER at Medical Park Mersin diagnosed a Type A aortic dissection, a ticking time bomb. The chaos was palpable until Professor Kalaycioglu entered. His presence commanded a sudden, focused calm. He looked at the scans, then at me, and said with terrifying directness: 'We must go now. There is no time, but I am here.' The 7-hour emergency surgery was the longest night of my life. He emerged exhausted but with a slight nod. 'The storm inside is calm.' His team managed everything, but it was his unwavering decisiveness in that moment of absolute crisis that snatched my husband from the edge. He is a commander in the truest sense, fighting the most urgent battles within.

I'm a 58-year-old marathon runner with a bicuspid aortic valve. My case wasn't an emergency, but a complex puzzle: how to fix the valve and the enlarged aorta while preserving my active lifestyle. Professor Kalaycioglu didn't just offer a standard solution. He spent an hour discussing the nuances of the Ross procedure versus a mechanical valve, drawing graphs of long-term outcomes versus anticoagulation needs. He treated me not as a passive patient, but as a partner in the decision. The surgery was flawless. At my six-month follow-up, I brought my running watch data. He reviewed it with genuine interest, comparing my heart rate zones pre and post-op. 'The engine is rebuilt,' he said. 'Now you drive it.' His approach is a blend of supreme artistry and rigorous, collaborative science.