Sitting at the pediatrician at the hour-and-forty-five minute mark with my kids to get a flu shot this past week I thought back to what my mom said a few months back. It was June and my family was in the midst of yet another move, this time across the great big pond from Zürich to Toronto doing a repatriating of sorts after 10 years abroad. I had called my mom, feeling ill from the onslaught of summer flu and telling her that the family doctor had come by the house earlier to see me after he had closed his practice as I was too weak to drive and my husband was not home. So the doctor came by, confirmed my suspicions, ordered me to rest (as much as possible), take some medicine and Tami-Flu. Did I mention he brought all of my medicine? Yes, he did. I did as told and was able to “recover” enough to fly two days later to Toronto for some house hunting with my husband. My mother’s words are still ringing in my ears: “Well, you can kiss that kind of service good-bye in Canada, I think.” Oh, how right she was. Just finding a pediatrician has taken me two months, as not every pediatrician is accepting new patients here in Oakville. READ MORE »