Getting Wello

Last Thursday morning didn't start all that different than most. My alarm woke me up deliberately before the boys, so that I could start my hair and make up before the chaos. I curled my hair while checking my calendar, mentally prepping for the day of meetings ahead of me. As I finished my makeup I heard the fellas rousing, the typical sounds of a four and five year old dressing themselves while simultaneously wrestling with eachother. I made my way to their room to remind them to hustle - feeding everyone breakfast and packing lunches before the walk to school is a small victory that we claim most mornings - most mornings. That's when I saw it, the red rash spreading across my youngest fella's body. The rash that changes plans, keeps you home from work, away from school, cuddled up, and constantly comforting.
Parents - you know the scene. Your little human is not well and sleep seems like a thing of the past. There's a fever, or a nasty cough, rash, insert other ailments here. And, of course, the weather has taken a turn. It's typically at this moment that you figure you ought to pack up your little one, siblings in tow, and get the unwell one checked by the doctor.

It's also at this moment that you dream about house-calls - maybe you've been watching too much Call the Midwife, maybe it's wishful thinking - but your mind flits to a land where you don't have to pack everyone up for the inevitable diagnosis that you're already suspecting.
Yesterday my littlest fella woke up with a rash, after two days of having a fever and sore throat. The symptoms were pretty standard - you have likely guessed - Hand Foot and Mouth Disease. My village of moms all agreed and so did Google, but there is a certain sense of relief in having a real diagnosis. We took the morning slowly, he spent most of it resting and by the afternoon the pressure on me to be sure about what he had was strong enough that we packed up, my older son in tow, and headed out to the clinic. The recent, and untimely, snowstorm meant layers and slick roads - naturally. All in all, our outing to the doctor took us an hour and a half - fifteen minutes of which were spent at the clinic.

I spent most of the day thinking about that dream - the house-call dream - the dream where you can have a diagnosis without leaving your home. It turns out this dream isn't too far off. A couple of months ago I had the delight of learning about a new healthcare service called Wello. Remember those dreams? This is pretty much it. An expert Nurse Practioner, on-call twenty-four-seven, who calls, videos or secure live-chats. They can give advice, prescriptions, referrals, they even follow-up, and they work with your family doctor. This is happy dance material, this is what parenting dreams are made of. This is what I was wishing for - this is way better than an hour and a half trip to the clinic.

Full disclosure, I haven't tried it yet, but after last week's trip to the doctor only to reaffirm something I was already 99% sure of - I'm getting Wello.

- lovefrommaria

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