The app · In active development
A virtual version of me, for the days I can't be there.
I call it "virtual me." It's not a workout app with a coaching wrapper. It takes a person's whole plan and turns it into a story they can see, hear, and follow, in their own words, at their own pace.
Why it's being built
The help shouldn't stop the day the coverage does.
A lot of people lose access to physical and occupational therapy. Not because they stopped needing it. A policy decided they did. The skills they were building don't disappear when the sessions end. The support does.
I can't be in every home every day. This is the part of the work that can be, built for the people insurance left behind and for the caregivers standing right next to them.
What it actually is
Each person's plan, told back to them as a story.
Storybooks already work in this world. They take the surprise out of what's coming and give a person predictability, and predictability is what lowers the anxiety around the unknown. The app builds that instinct into a product, so it travels to the people I can't reach in person.
My Day
The whole day laid out as a sequence, start to finish. Wake up, breakfast, the drive, the session, lunch, the park, wind-down, bed. Health and wellness is an all-day thing, so the story holds the whole day and the routine inside it. It's how the app becomes the one steady thing a family deals with, instead of a tool that shows up for an hour.
My Session
The step-by-step of the workout itself. Warm-up breathing, each activity in order, the cool-down, all done. The close-up view that takes the surprise out of the training, one step per page, with the start and the end of every movement shown so the person knows exactly where they're going.
A person previews the story before it happens, keeps it open during as a live anchor that shows what's now and what's next, and revisits it after as a recap. Same story, three moments.
More than exercises
Built for the person who navigates speech and reading.
Some of the people I work with are nonverbal, some read at a level the world built nothing for. So the app is designed against the same three channels every session runs on: sound, sight, and touch.
My voice, reading along
The page reads itself aloud in my voice, the words highlighting as they're spoken. Virtual me, reading the story to them, calm and a little gentler than the room.
A feelings check
A simple way to say how they're doing when words are hard. It gives a nonverbal person a voice in their own session, and builds a quiet trend over time that can feed the plan.
Tap to answer
Anywhere the app asks something, a person can answer without speech. Ready. All done. I need a break. They drive their own pace.
Video modeling
A few seconds of each movement and daily-living skill done right, with me as the model. Seeing the thing done, not just described.
A sign and symbol layer
Picture support beside the words, and a short clip of each word's sign, so a person picks up a way to communicate while they use the app.
Real photos, real rooms
The actual person, the actual gym, the actual equipment wherever we can. Real is concrete, and it shows a person their own world instead of a clip-art stand-in.
Built around real life
Daily living is one layer, not the whole thing.
The activities of daily living, getting dressed, holding and gripping, getting up from a chair, are where a lot of people start. They matter. They're also just the ground floor. The app reaches across the whole day and the whole person: movement and strength, regulation and breathwork, routine, life skills, and the emotional side of all of it.
And it scales to the person. The same story can render as a single photo and a tap, or as a few lines of read-along narrative for a stronger reader. No one-size-fits-all, in the product the same as in the room.
It scales to the person
- Picture and point, one photo, no text required
- A word paired with its symbol, reading carried by the picture
- One first-person sentence, read along with audio
- A short narrative for stronger readers and the caregiver track
Written to feel like a person
- Warm and human in tone, never clinical
- Plain language, short sentences, a layout that never jumps
- Redirection that keeps the person's dignity intact, never an erasing "but"
- Steps small enough that the first one is always doable
The caregiver track
Guide, don't do it for them.
A parent opens the app and gets a kid who can't always read a plan, and a plan that was never written for that kid to read. The story hands them a different start. The session is already something their kid can follow, and the parent's job shifts from explaining to guiding.
Its core principle is the hardest and most important one in caregiving. Any unnecessary help is a hindrance. When you do the thing instead of guiding the person through it, they lose the rep, and the rep is the point. The track teaches how to stay close, reduce the demand until they can engage, then build.
Where it stands
In active development.
The structure is being built right now: the story engine, the caregiver track, and the voice that has to feel like me in the room. If you'd want to know the moment it's ready, say so and you'll be first to hear.