Two days ago, my six-year-old daughter comes to me with itchy bumps all over. Not sure what it might be, I start stripping her bed and checking all around her room for potential tiny, hungry intruders. I also called TeleHealth. After a series of questions, I am told to bring her to the doctor within 24 hours since it could be chicken pox. It is now the evening and the doctor’s office is closed; but that doesn’t matter anyways because their policy is that if you want to see the doctor, you have to call first thing the morning of. My friend compares it to trying to be caller seven when a radio station is giving away prizes. First thing the next morning, I call my GP’s office. He’s not in until Friday. I would still like to know whether she is highly contagious with chicken pox or being eaten alive while she sleeps. My only other option is to wait endlessly to see a doctor at the emergency room (or travel to the nearest walk-in clinic 30 minutes away). Now, I know this is NOT an emergency situation, as often times they are not, but still, I have no other option, do I? It turns out, I do, and I can’t be more excited to tell you all about it.