26 Extraordinary Physician Testimonies — Now Reaching Çankırı

Turkey's medical history spans from the ancient civilizations of Anatolia through the Islamic Golden Age to modern times. The Asklepion at Pergamon (modern Bergama) was one of the ancient world's most important healing centers, where Galen trained before moving to Rome. During the medieval period, the Seljuk and Ottoman empires established advanced hospital systems ("darüşşifa" or "bimaristan") that were among the most sophisticated in the world. The Divriği Great Mosque and Hospital (1228-1229), a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is one of the best-preserved Seljuk-era medical facilities.

Ottoman medicine blended Greek, Persian, and Arab medical traditions. The Süleymaniye Medical Madrasa in Istanbul trained physicians in a curriculum that included pharmacology, surgery, and anatomy. The Ottoman military medical school, established in 1827 as part of modernization reforms, evolved into Istanbul University's Faculty of Medicine. Şerafeddin Sabuncuoğlu's 15th-century surgical atlas, "Cerrahiyyetü'l-Haniyye," is remarkable for its detailed illustrations of surgical procedures including the earliest known depiction of female surgeons. Modern Turkey's healthcare system has expanded rapidly, with Istanbul's major hospitals — including Cerrahpaşa Medical Faculty and Hacettepe University Hospital in Ankara — providing advanced medical care.

Turkey's ghost traditions draw from a remarkable convergence of ancient Anatolian, Greek, Roman, Byzantine, and Islamic cultures, creating one of the world's most layered supernatural folklores. In Turkish folk belief, the "cin" (djinn) — supernatural beings created from smokeless fire as described in the Quran — are the primary agents of the supernatural world. Unlike Western ghosts, djinn are not spirits of the dead but a separate creation with their own societies, religions, and hierarchies. They can be benevolent or malevolent, and elaborate rituals exist to avoid offending them, including pouring water before entering a dark room and reciting the Bismillah.

The Turkish folk tradition also includes the "hortlak" (a revenant or walking corpse), distinct from djinn, representing the spirit of a person who died violently or with unfinished business. The "karabasan" (literally "dark presser") describes the phenomenon of sleep paralysis accompanied by a malevolent presence — a cross-cultural experience given specific supernatural interpretation in Turkish folklore. The "al karısı" (red woman) is a dreaded postpartum demon believed to attack new mothers and newborns, reflecting ancient anxieties about maternal and infant mortality that generated elaborate protective rituals in Turkish villages.

Anatolian Turkey preserves pre-Islamic supernatural traditions from the civilizations that preceded the Turkish arrival. The ancient city of Hierapolis (modern Pamukkale) was home to the Plutonium, a cave emitting toxic gases that the ancients believed was an entrance to the underworld. Archaeological evidence confirms that priests of Cybele used the lethal gases in rituals, claiming immunity through divine protection while animals brought near the opening died.

Turkey's miracle traditions span its multi-layered religious history. The House of the Virgin Mary (Meryem Ana Evi) near Ephesus, believed by some to be where Mary spent her final years, was discovered in the 19th century based on the visions of German mystic Anne Catherine Emmerich and has been visited by several popes. Healing claims are associated with the site's spring water. The tomb of Jalal ad-Din Rumi in Konya attracts millions of visitors annually, many seeking spiritual healing and blessing. In Islamic tradition, the miracles (karamat) of saints (evliya) are considered distinct from the miracles (mu'jizat) of prophets, and Turkey's numerous evliya tombs (türbe) are sites of ongoing pilgrimage and healing prayers. The phenomenon of "türbe ziyareti" (tomb visitation) combines Islamic devotion with pre-Islamic Anatolian shrine traditions that predate the arrival of Turkic peoples.

The Mayo brothers built their clinic on a radical principle: collaboration. In an era when physicians were solo practitioners guarding their expertise, the Mayos created a multi-specialty group practice near Rochester that changed medicine forever. Physicians near Çankırı, Central Anatolia inherit this legacy, and the best among them know that healing is never a solo act—it requires the collected wisdom of many minds focused on one patient.

The Midwest's tradition of potluck dinners near Çankırı, Central Anatolia has been adapted by hospital wellness programs into community nutrition events. The concept is simple: bring a dish, share a meal, learn about health. But the power is in the gathering itself. People who eat together care about each other's health in ways that isolated individuals don't. The potluck is preventive medicine served on paper plates.

Catholic health systems near Çankırı, Central Anatolia trace their origins to religious sisters who crossed the Atlantic and the prairie to serve communities that no one else would. The Sisters of St. Francis, the Benedictines, and the Sisters of Mercy built hospitals in frontier towns where the nearest physician was a day's ride away. Their legacy persists in mission statements that prioritize the poor, the vulnerable, and the dying.

Polish Catholic communities near Çankırı, Central Anatolia maintain healing devotions to the Black Madonna of Czestochowa—a tradition brought across the Atlantic and sustained through generations of immigration. Hospital rooms in Polish neighborhoods sometimes display replicas of the icon, and patients who pray before it report a comfort that transcends its artistic merit. The Black Madonna heals homesickness as much as physical illness.

State fair injuries near Çankırı, Central Anatolia generate a specific subset of Midwest hospital ghost stories. The ghost of the boy who fell from the Ferris wheel in 1923, the phantom of the woman trampled during a cattle stampede in 1948, the apparition of the teen electrocuted by a faulty carnival ride in 1967—these fair ghosts arrive in late summer, when the smell of funnel cake and livestock carries through hospital windows.

The Eastland disaster of 1915, when a passenger ship capsized in the Chicago River killing 844 people, created a concentration of ghosts that persists in medical facilities throughout the Midwest near Çankırı, Central Anatolia. The temporary morgue established at the Harpo Studios building is the most famous haunted site, but the Eastland's dead have been reported in hospitals across the Great Lakes region, as if the trauma dispersed geographically over time.

The pharmacology of physician distress—the substances physicians turn to when burnout exceeds their coping capacity—has been studied with increasing rigor. Research published in the Journal of Addiction Medicine estimates that substance use disorders affect 10 to 15 percent of physicians over their lifetime, with alcohol being the most commonly misused substance, followed by prescription opioids, benzodiazepines, and stimulants. Physicians have unique risk factors for substance misuse: easy access to medications, high-stress work environments, the self-medicating tendencies that medical knowledge enables, and the stigma that prevents treatment-seeking. State physician health programs (PHPs) provide monitoring and treatment, but participation is often mandatory following disciplinary action rather than voluntary.

The neurobiology of substance use and burnout share overlapping pathways: both involve dysregulation of dopaminergic reward circuits, stress-hormone systems, and prefrontal executive function. This overlap suggests that addressing burnout proactively could reduce substance use risk. "Physicians' Untold Stories" offers a non-pharmacological alternative pathway for emotional regulation. For physicians in Çankırı, Central Anatolia, who may be at risk for substance misuse, Dr. Kolbaba's extraordinary accounts provide experiences of wonder and meaning that naturally engage the brain's reward systems without the risks of chemical self-medication—a subtle but potentially significant protective factor.

Physician suicide represents the most catastrophic outcome of the burnout epidemic, and the data are sobering. An estimated 300 to 400 physicians die by suicide annually in the United States, a rate that is 1.41 times higher than the general population for male physicians and 2.27 times higher for female physicians, according to research published in the American Journal of Psychiatry. The absolute numbers, while tragic, likely undercount actual physician suicides due to underreporting, misclassification, and the reluctance of medical examiners to assign suicide as cause of death for colleagues. Importantly, physician suicide is not primarily a function of untreated mental illness—many physicians who die by suicide were functioning at high levels professionally, masking their distress behind clinical competence.

The Dr. Lorna Breen Health Care Provider Protection Act (Public Law No. 117-105), signed in March 2022, addresses some structural barriers. It funds training programs to improve mental health awareness, allocates grants for evidence-based wellness interventions, and includes provisions to reduce stigma associated with mental health treatment-seeking among healthcare workers. For physicians in Çankırı, Central Anatolia, this legislation represents a meaningful step, but legislative change without cultural transformation is insufficient. Dr. Kolbaba's "Physicians' Untold Stories" contributes to cultural transformation by validating the emotional dimensions of medical practice that the profession's stoic culture has suppressed—dimensions whose suppression contributes directly to the despair that drives suicide.

The Dr. Lorna Breen Heroes' Foundation, established by Dr. Breen's family following her death by suicide on April 26, 2020, has become the most visible advocacy organization addressing physician mental health in the United States. The foundation's efforts have been instrumental in several concrete policy achievements: the passage of the Dr. Lorna Breen Health Care Provider Protection Act, successful advocacy campaigns to remove or modify mental health disclosure questions on state medical licensing applications (with 27 states having made changes as of 2024), and the development of educational resources addressing stigma, help-seeking, and systemic burnout drivers.

The foundation's approach is notable for its emphasis on systemic rather than individual solutions. Rather than urging physicians to "seek help," the foundation advocates for removing barriers to help-seeking and restructuring the environments that create the need for help in the first place. For physicians in Çankırı, Central Anatolia, the foundation's work has tangible local relevance: changes in licensing board questions may directly affect local physicians' willingness to seek mental health treatment. "Physicians' Untold Stories" supports the foundation's mission by contributing to the cultural shift it advocates—a shift toward acknowledging that physicians are human, that their emotional responses to extraordinary clinical experiences are assets rather than liabilities, and that the work of healing exacts a toll that deserves recognition, not punishment.