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University of Chicago Emergency Room
Rating Details »
Neighborhood: Hyde Park
901 E 58th St
(between Drexel Ave & Ingleside Ave)
Chicago, IL 60637
(773) 702-1234
901 E 58th St
(between Drexel Ave & Ingleside Ave)
Chicago, IL 60637
(773) 702-1234
- By Appointment Only:
- No
5 reviews for University of Chicago Emergency Room
poor Trish's Easter Sunday experience reminded me of my one (and hopefully only) ever ER visit. The entire thing was a tremendous comedy of errors and involved me, several completely bewildered U of C med students, and one very savvy male nurse, and in the end, a bandaid. The whole thing was like a bad episode of SCRUBS.
It was an election year and I was really vested in watching the debates. So great was my need for being a well informed voter (and hey, socializing with all of the dudes in my grad-dorm) that I ignored the tiny teeny little cut I gave myself while making dinner.
Ok, so maybe it wasn't so tiny - and maybe it wasn't a cut. Maybe a piece of my finger actually went missing (that's right in the DORM kitchen - ewwwww), and maybe I did this all with a butter knife because somehow I have super human strength when it comes to my desire to procure packaged food... (and who says humans aren't related to monkeys? ME WANT FOOOOOD!!!!)
Anyway, I ignored this tiny little cut, choosing instead to wrap my hand up in paper towels, down some liquid refreshment/courage, and settle in for the debates with my pals. Fast forward seven hours later to me, very light headed and still bleeding. I try to get up and one of my friends insists that she see "what the hell you did to yourself." So I show her and we almost have to cart her off to the ER due to fainting.
Fast forward 20 minutes later and I'm in the ER with said friend (she recovered pretty quickly). I found it odd that I was in and out of there fairly swiftly while other patients (who seemed worse for wear) were still waiting as I left 2 hours later.
Basically the nurse who first saw me had the foresight to dump a shitload of peroxide on my finger. Several med students and one slightly freaked out resident couldn't quite figure out how to stop the bleeding/what to do given that they couldn't really stitch me and I didn't have the tiny missing piece of my pointer with me...One of the poor gentleman also discovered that just b/c he pulled a sheet around my bed and stood on the other side of it didn't mean that he'd isolated me in some sound proof room - nor had I become invisible: "ummm, I'm still right here, all you did was pull a sheet. I can hear you telling your colleague that you don't know what to do with me..."
In the end we let the peroxide do its thing and one lowly resident sat with me, shooting the shit, and squeezing my finger. A professor brought her students over on rounds to see what I'd accomplished: "we've seen much much worse, but we've never quite seen THAT, especially with a butter knife."
2.5 hours after entering and almost 10 after my bit of culinary self injury I left the ER with no bill to pay (thanks insurance :)), a bandaid, and an interesting story to tell.
How long do you think it should take to diagnose and set a broken foot? Apparently the U of C ER doctors think 7 hours. It took 4 hours just to get the digital x rays looked at! My fiance's 87 year old grandmother fell down Friday night, and we took her here because it was the closest Emergency room, and her doctor is on staff here.
The new er doctor (it was his 4th rotation ever, and his first night shift) did not listen to anything the patient said. He clearly didn't believe her when she said she was healthy and didn't take any medication other than vitamins. Maybe that's why he dismissed the compressed disk in her back, even though she kept saying her back was much more of a problem than her foot. Luckily for her, the ER staff at Illinois Masonic did not over look that, and immediately diagnosed and to work on her back yesterday when we took her to that Emergency room.
We should not have to take an 87 year old with good insurance to 2 different emergency rooms in order to get her treated properly!
I know U of C hospital is really amazing when it comes to research and treating complicated issues. But does that mean they can ignore all other medical issues?
Hopefully I never have to use the emergency room at the U of C hospital ever again!!!
P-"I AM GONNA PUSH!! I CAN'T HOLD BACK!!"
N 1-"Are we in labor and delivery?" N 2 "Nope, she just thinks she is, but don't worry, she has nothing in there to push."
************************************************** *********************
P-"So, I coughed really, really deep and loud, it scared me. My girl and I got to talking about it and decided that my health was nothing to play with."
N- "So when did you cough? And was it only once?"
P-"It was yesterday, and yea, only once, but man, it was a loud cough."
N-"What street drugs do you use?"
************************************************** *********************P= patient N= really patient nurse*** conversations overheard through the ER curtain- keeping me entertained through the day.
I don't head to the ER, not by choice. Unfortunately, I get sick. When I don't feel well, I call my doctor and give the symptoms. They then either tell me to go to the ER, or wait a couple of days to come in. Unfortunately, normally- I am sent to the ER.
This week, I was feeling horrible, to the point where the pain was past my tolerance level- and none of the meds I had at home could control it. I called my doctor, and they wanted to see me- immediately, in the ER. From experience, I know what fun is in store for me, but, I have no choice. My doctor alerted the ER that I was on my way, and I caught a ride over.
So I get to U of C, and the ER waiting room is cold and noisy, extremely. I got checked in pretty quick, but had to wait about an hour due to 2 people who were in pretty dire shape. Finally, it is my turn. I am immediately given pain meds and my view of the ER gets bumped to a much more positive light. I have to wait for my doctor's staff to see me- yup even in the ER, he gets to call the shots. While I am waiting, I also get my first injection of morphine. Life is getting a bit more tolerable.
I meet with my wonderful doctors, we decide that the normal battery of tests is needed, Cat scan, X-ray, and a poke and pour (spinal tap). I continue on with 5 more injections of morphine over the course of these tests, and decide, well, my head still really hurts, but, oh boy, once you get past that, the entertainment factor is rich- really, extremely rich.
As is par for the course here, I am well cared for. The nurses, doctors, and residents are caring, and somewhat curious. They treat me with respect . I attempt to endure the poke an pour with my usual grace, why complain? That only makes it more difficult for everyone (I amused myself by trying to count how many of these I have had in the past year... I think it is over 15, but not positive). After about 10 hours, I make a bargain and am allowed to go home- with the caveat that someone will be with me and I will contact them in the next two days- for sure- and immediately if things get worse.
All in all- not a bad experience ! My pain is controlled and I am sent home with stronger meds to help me through this bump in the road, I have been treated well. Who could ask for more?
Couple of words of advice:
1.Arrive early- if possible- this place gets more crowded as the day goes on
2.The kinder you are to people, they will act in return
3.The waiting area is cold- make sure to bring a coat or blanket
4.Crying does not get you anywhere. Everyone is here because they are ill and perceive that they need immediate medical care- carrying on about your condition does no good (YES, I am talking to you, Mr. Shut fingers in the car door!!). People deal with pain in different manners- you may scream and carry on- I get incredibly quiet and still- really, you cannot judge.
I know here on Yelp the 2 star review translates to "I've experienced better." Now thankfully, I haven't experienced too many emergency rooms in my life, but I would like to think if I had gone somewhere else last night I would have experienced better.
Due to a combination of the cold and walking in not-made-for-walking shoes, I developed some terrible blisters on New Years Eve on the backs of both ankles. Normally just a nuisance that goes away with some bacitracin, band-aids, and comfy shoes, these blisters swelled into red-hot itchy messes--by last night my left ankle was the size of a grapefruit! Concerned, I logged onto Mayo Clinic's diagnosis page and, after answering a few questions, learned that I most likely had cellulitis, which can kill you. Holy cow. Did I pick up a staph infection from my pedicure (pre-blisters, but still...)? From the house party in Logan Square? From sitting on the carpeted steps of the Century Landmark to avoid the migraine-causing front row seats when I saw "Slumdog Millionaire" on New Year's Day? Who knows? So I walked across the Midway Plaisance to the E.R. around 7 p.m., hoping to get some antibiotics.
When I arrived, I was greeted by an albatross: "Don't bother, turn around and go home! That's what I'm doing! I've been here 6 1/2 hours and haven't seen anyone yet!" But, sigh, I have a highly infectious disease that needs to be treated. I was checked in by a nice man named David, who exclaimed over my swollen ankle. A little after 9, I saw a friendly enough nurse whom confirmed the http://Mayoclinic.com diagnosis, and warned me that it was going to be awhile before I saw a doctor. "But things seem to be picking up, so it shouldn't be too bad," she assured me.
Shoulda listened to my albatross. At 3 a.m., 8 HOURS AFTER I checked in, my name was finally called. Maybe because I rated my pain a "6" on the 1-10 scale? By this time, my poor ankles were so stiff and hot I could hardly walk. Hours before, my wonderful friend Shane stopped by and brought me my Sarah Vowell book and a soda. Shane also had the insight to secure two ice packs from the nurses' station and help me locate to a spot where I could elevate my left ankle. By now, the too-loud TVs were showing poker tournaments, my packs were hot, and my patience had all but disappeared.
While my doctors and nurses were overall great--damn, that was the smoothest I.V. needle I have ever had jabbed into my arm!--I was not discharged until 5:15. Yes, my I.V. filled with wonderful antibiotics took a half hour to drain into my disease-ridden body, but I also spent nearly 40 minutes just laying there, drifting in and out of consciousness, shivering, wondering if everyone had forgotten about me. Sigh. A cab finally dropped me off at my apartment at 5:40 this morning. "Be glad you're alright," the cabby reminded me.
Yes. When I woke up mid-day today, blurry-eyed from my 10 HOURS of emergency room adventures, the swelling in my left ankle had reduced enormously, and the throbbing in my calf had ceased. So yes, I'm thankful for the U of C ER...however, I also can't help but wonder if their location weren't right on the edge of the ghetto, would they deliver a better product?
The pediatric ER is superb! It is a wonderful service to our community that we have such a quality medical facility that is focused on children. We have had to visit this ER on a couple of occasions and am always impressed with the care.
