The scene was one we have all starred in: It was a greyish weekend morning in February, that seemingly endless mid-winter month where the grind of coughs, runny noses and fevers becomes unbearable. My five-year-old daughter, Isla, woke up extra early with a cough that sounded like a seal bark. She was feverish and had lost her voice. Isla, my husband and I were thin on patience because my two-year-old son, Finn, was running around maniacally, having recently recovered from his own drippy, days-long virus. Ugh. We probably needed to see a doctor. Again.
Scott and I eyed one another, each hoping the other would volunteer to trudge out into the wild. On Sundays, walk-in clinics are non-existent in our area; the only real option was to go to an emergency room, which would mean a nightmarishly long wait. And who knew what new viruses we risked contracting there. We had already been sick for what felt like months. Plus, going out meant I?d have to clean myself up a bit. Sleep-deprived and over-caffeinated, I looked like someone?s bad dream. Then I remembered an ad for a digital doctor service called Maple that I had scrolled past on my Facebook feed. I looked it up and discovered that, if we were willing to pony up some cash?$79 plus tax for a weekend ?visit??we could see a doctor virtually. He or she could even prescribe medication, the site said, all while I was in my pajamas (yay!). A glimmer of hope ignited in my heart. Maybe we could get some antibiotics without having to to...