Can I ask you something?
When was the last time someone asked how you were doing, and you actually told them the truth?
Not "I'm fine." Not "hanging in there." The real answer.
The one where you're tired in a way sleep doesn't fix. Where you've called the pharmacy three times this week. Where you're holding twelve medications, four specialists and one very important question for your doctor in your head, and you're terrified you'll forget it the second you sit down on that crinkly paper.
If that's you, I wrote this for you.
I've sat on the other side of that bed
Before HAVEN, I was a nurse. And not just one kind.
I started as a CNA and then an LPN in nursing homes. I was an outpatient and inpatient dialysis nurse. A neuro ICU nurse. An OR and PACU nurse.
Here's the thing about dialysis that most people don't know: patients come in three times a week. Every week. For hours. You don't just take care of them. You get to know them. Their grandkids' names. Their bad days. The way their face changes when a new lab result comes back.
I was deeply in people's lives. And I saw how much they carried that no one else could see.
The med list that changed again. The appointment they had to reschedule because they couldn't get a ride. The insurance call. The prior auth. The "when did this start?" that they couldn't quite answer, because honestly, who could? Every day blurs together when you're just trying to get through it.
Most of it lived in their heads. Or on the back of an envelope. Or in a folder that weighed more every month.
And no, it wasn't because they weren't trying
I want to say this clearly, because I think you need to hear it.
If you feel behind, it is not because you're disorganized. It's not because you're not trying hard enough.
It's because living with a chronic illness is a full-time job that nobody trained you for, nobody pays you for, and nobody gives you a day off from.
You are the patient. The scheduler. The pharmacist's favorite caller. The person who has to explain your history from the beginning, again, to a new provider who has twelve minutes.
That's a lot for one person to hold.
What if you didn't have to hold it all?
When I stepped back from nursing and threw myself into my own home, I built the HAVEN Planner and my 2.30 System to help moms make home life easier.
And then the comments started coming in.
"Please make one for chronic illness."
"I need this for my health."
I read every single one. And I couldn't stop thinking about the people I used to take care of.
So I've been quietly working on this for a while. Everything I learned at the bedside, built into pages that hold it for you. So maybe you can live a little more and stress a little less.
Here's what's inside (and why each page is there)
1. The page you hand to every new provider
Diagnoses, allergies, surgeries, devices, what helps and what makes it worse. Fill it in once, on a good day. Then the next time someone hands you a clipboard, you hand them this instead.
2. Your medication list, finally in one place
It's the first thing almost every nurse asks for. Every med, dose, when you take it, what it's for, and who prescribed it.
3. A plan for your bad days, written on a good one
The signs it's starting. What helps first. Your rescue meds. Who to call. What can wait. Because on the hard days, you shouldn't have to think. You should just be able to open the page.
4. A month you can actually see
Color the little dots for appointments, refills, treatments, flares and good days. After a few weeks, you start to see patterns you never could have seen before.
5. Every dose, every day
No more standing in the kitchen asking yourself, "Did I already take it?"
6. The answer to "when did this start?"
Energy, pain, sleep, brain fog. One dot a day. Bring it to your next appointment and watch your doctor actually lean in.
7. A week built around your med times
AM, noon, PM and bed checkboxes for every single day. Plus refills and pickups, so nothing runs out on a Friday night.
8. Days that work with your body, not against it
Time blocking from 4 AM to midnight, meds by time, how you feel from 1 to 10, and water.
9. And for the days when that's all too much
The Low Energy Day page. Meds. Water. Food. Rest. One small thing you did. That's it.
I need you to hear this part: that still counts. A day you got through is a planned day. You did enough.
Who this is (and isn't) for
This isn't for you if you want a planner that tells you to push through, hustle harder, or "just be more consistent."
It's for you if you're tired of carrying your whole health history in your head. If you want to walk into your next appointment feeling prepared instead of panicked. If you want something to lean on, built by someone who's been on the other side of the bed.
Get it tonight
The Health + Care Planner is a printable, instant download for $34. Print it tonight, start any month, and print as many pages as you need.
If you're also caring for someone, or someone is caring for you, the Health + Care Bundle gets you both planners for $54.
New to printables? Here's exactly how to print it, what paper to use, and how many pages you need.
You've been holding so much, for so long.
Let the pages hold some of it now.
xo, Taylor
P.S. If you only fill out one page this week, make it the Health Summary. It takes about 20 minutes on a good day, and it saves you from starting over with every new provider. That page alone is worth it.
The Health + Care Planner is an organizing tool. It isn't medical advice and doesn't replace your care team.
