Why this experience made sense

My experience with pain and difficult encounters at a clinic that left me traumatised didn't happen without reason. I spent a long time asking myself "why me", but somewhere deep down I felt it had a purpose — that one day it would matter. And so it did.

Today, beyond supporting patients after failed treatments, I was asked for something more for the first time — to accompany a patient on a trip to Turkey for a complaint visit.

Anna's story

Anna — the patient I accompanied — had her treatment done in Antalya. Sadly, there were serious failures. She struggled with persistent pain and contacted the clinic. They agreed to a corrective procedure, but it turned out even worse than the original treatment.

After these experiences, Anna lost all trust. She lived in pain for a year and a half, no longer believing anything could be fixed.

Through Facebook she met Justyna, who had very similar experiences — in Istanbul, though. She had decided to try again, this time in Izmir. As she herself said — she finally found a good dentist who not only fixed her teeth but restored her quality of life.

It was Justyna who recommended the same doctor to Anna.

Third attempt — again, not the right dentist

Exhausted by pain and the lack of results from previous treatments, Anna decided to trust this recommendation and fly to Izmir. Her friend even offered to come along, but in the end things turned out differently.

Unfortunately, Anna was not treated by the same dentist who had treated Justyna. The procedure was performed by a young, less experienced doctor — under partial supervision, but as it later turned out, that wasn't enough.

This was already the third attempt to fix the situation — crown removal, treatment and reconstruction. Anna hoped that this time her life would finally return to normal. It did not. As she put it herself — she arrived in pain and left in pain.

How she found me

Despite everything, Anna quickly contacted the clinic again. They offered yet another corrective procedure. This time, however, she was afraid to go alone. She was also afraid to trust anyone — which is entirely understandable.

She had heard that people exist who help in such situations — mediating with clinics and drafting letters — but, according to the information she had received, these services were very expensive. And she had already spent over £14,000.

Even so, the pain drove her to reach out to me.

The conversation that surprised her

During our first conversation she asked directly how much my help would cost. I told her that I don't charge for this. I do it because I've been through it myself and I fully understand what patients in these situations face.

She was surprised — as she said, she had heard something quite different and had she known earlier, she would have contacted me much sooner.

She then asked whether I would fly with her to Izmir as support. She offered to cover the travel costs — she simply needed not to be there alone. I agreed.

The journey to Izmir

Anna bought the tickets: a train from Edinburgh to Crewe and a flight from Manchester to Izmir. And so our shared journey began.

She collected me from the station, and then we went to her home. We had lunch she had prepared, and afterwards her friend drove us to Manchester Airport.

The flight took around four hours and was also delayed, so we arrived in Izmir after midnight. A driver was waiting for Anna, but I wasn't on the list. This was most likely because I hadn't sent a copy of my passport to the clinic in advance — as a companion I hadn't thought it was necessary.

The coordinator tried to apply pressure, suggesting the driver wouldn't take me without it. As it turned out, there was no problem at all. We reached the hotel around one in the morning.

Monday — the clinic visit

Our appointment was in the afternoon, so we spent the morning resting and gathering our strength. We walked into the clinic with a steady step, knowing exactly why we were there.

A "welcome committee" was waiting for Anna — the coordinator, the manager and the rest of the team. Everyone was very friendly, perhaps even overly so. The only person whose real emotions were visible was the interpreter — visibly stressed.

Diagnostics and the clinic's proposal

The conversation began with Anna's health and the reasons for her return. She explained clearly: she left in pain and came back in pain — despite earlier assurances that everything would pass.

A new round of diagnostics was proposed. The results confirmed what a Polish dentist had previously said — a cyst and inflammation.

It has to be said that the doctor approached the matter very professionally. He was calm, composed, gentle and explained each step carefully. Two solutions were proposed: a resection or removal of the cyst.

Where things got complicated

The problem arose with the cost — the clinic priced the treatment at an additional 900 euros.

Anna was prepared to pay, but it was hard to overlook the fact that proper diagnostics had not been carried out before the crowns were fitted.

The manager firmly stated that it was not the clinic's fault and that the patient must cover the treatment costs. It was hard not to feel like it was a conversation going nowhere.

My role in the visit

During the conversation the manager asked what I do. I explained that I support patients in difficult situations following failed procedures. I also showed the agreement I had signed with Anna — clearly stating that:

• I am not a doctor, consultant or lawyer
• I am purely emotional support
• I help free of charge
• Travel costs are covered by the patient

Psychological pressure from the clinic

There were elements of psychological pressure. On one hand, it was emphasised that Anna was welcome; on the other, it was pointed out that she shouldn't arrive unannounced, as appointments need to be "arranged" and the schedule reorganised.

Interestingly, it later emerged that only one dentist is currently working there — which contradicts the earlier assurances about a large number of patients.

At the end, the interpreter admitted she had been very stressed. Honestly — there was no need for that at all. We hadn't come to fight, only to calmly and constructively try to resolve the problem.

The next day — diagnosis and a plan

Emotions ran high for everyone — and that was entirely natural. Anna was afraid that something would go wrong again, and the clinic staff didn't know what to expect, especially given that a third party had been involved in spreading rumours.

The following day we returned to the conversation, but for Anna one question remained paramount: why, despite all the treatment, the pain wasn't going away. The clinic owner, the dentist, rose to the occasion. He carefully examined the teeth, reviewed the X-rays, and it then became clear that one tooth contained a cyst, while another would require a resection.

Anna kept returning to what had happened to her — and that was completely understandable. Living with pain for a year and a half is not something you can easily leave behind. I did ask her, though, that we try not to focus solely on the past, but rather on what could be done to finally make things right.

The crowns weren't removed that day. What mattered most was that Anna fully understood the state of her teeth — what had been done in Antalya, what in Izmir, and what realistic options existed for ending her suffering. It was therefore proposed that the following morning, right from the start, the crown removal would begin and the true condition of the teeth would be assessed very carefully.

This time, though, she wasn't alone.

The atmosphere was tense and despite the smiles neither of us was sure how things would unfold. Even so, I believed — and I kept telling Anna — that this time everything would be alright.

Would it really turn out that way?