Two doctors, three rooms, one desk that empties at two. Stella takes every call, books new patients and adjustments into each doctor's real day, reminds, reschedules, and — when someone cancels — pulls the day tighter instead of leaving a hole.
Bridge Chiropractic, this is Stella — how can I help?
You don't need another appointment grid. You need someone who picks up, knows the day, and quietly keeps it tight.
Stella takes the cancellation kindly — then turns it into an offer to the 4:00, who'd said he'd love earlier. Nobody is obliged.
The universal six, and two that matter when demand is same-day and plans taper.
No menus, no “press one”, no hold music, no disclaimer wall. Place, first name, how can I help — in one breath. Then she listens instead of interrogating. And she's there at 7:40 in the morning and 9 at night — when the parent thinks of it, not when you open.
She searches actual availability — who is where, doing what, for how long, in which chair or room — and never double-books. If she offers 2:20, 2:20 is free.
Reminders go out ahead of time. When someone can't make it, she handles the flustered call with warmth and finds the next time without drama.
A cancelled four o'clock is the one slot you can't sell tomorrow. The moment it frees, she offers it — by text — to the people who've said they'd take short notice, who wanted earlier, or who owe a make-up. First yes takes it; nobody else hears about it.
A four o'clock cancels? She asks the five o'clock if they'd like to come earlier. Nobody is obliged, and it cascades — you finish at five, not six.
Someone turns down a 9am; she stops leading with mornings for them. Preferences, never rules — and when she checks, she uses very few words.
“Anything today?” gets a real answer from the real book — including gaps that just opened. She books it, confirms it, and the patient is in the chair before the voicemail would have been heard.
Three times a week, then twice, then monthly maintenance. Cadence is spacing plus horizon — she keeps the shape you prescribed and only ever moves a single visit when a week goes wrong.
She takes the cancellation the moment it comes, whatever the hour — nobody waits for the desk to open. Runway is money: the earlier she knows, the more people she can offer the slot to once your outbound hours open, and the likelier it fills. Your policy — notice period, deposit, fee — is yours; she states it plainly, applies it the same way every time, and stays kind about it.
Everyone on the short-notice list asked to be on it. Nobody is nagged; nobody hears another client's business.
A fire alarm, a table out of action, a doctor running forty minutes behind — the whole block moves, and it's your call, not the patient's. You say it once; she works out who's affected, offers each patient the right alternative in their own words, waives the fee, logs the reason, and reports back. When it's an overrun rather than a closure she works by who can still act: the patients who haven't left home yet get the call and the choice; the ones already in the waiting room get the real ETA; nobody further out is touched unless the delay keeps growing. Nobody hears why; nobody rings the desk.
Fire alarm — we're out on the pavement, probably half an hour. Ring whoever hasn't left home yet, tell the two here, and leave the rest till we know.
Weekly, twice weekly, monthly — those are presets. The real thing underneath is target spacing over a horizon, so a taper or an intensive block is one plan, not three, and a moved visit never rewrites it.
A cancellation is not a hole. It's an offer to the person after.
A panel at the desk answers “who's next, what changed” in five seconds. One button to say “move Zoe to five.” Reps and robocalls never make it to you.
Nobody is ever moved twice in a row for the practice's convenience. Pull-forward offers cost nothing; moving someone against their wishes is rationed and remembered.
No “press one”. No “your call is important to us”. No recorded disclaimers before a human word. Warm, short, present — and she says what she is if you ask.
She offers what's in your catalogue and staff profiles. She won't crown a “best” anyone or promise an outcome. A time she offers is a time that's free.
A moved client hears “we need to move your Tuesday — let me find you another time.” Never who, never why. And once moved kindly, they're not yo-yo'd back.
She doesn't lead with it and doesn't apologise for it. Ask, and she'll tell you plainly: she's the assistant. She helps; that's what people remember.
Per seat — a person Stella books — counted from her own book each month. Nothing to declare, nothing to meter, no percentage of your takings. Month to month, no contract.
She picks up, day and night, and takes care of the appointment someone is calling or texting about.
Everything in Answer, plus everything she starts — on her own inside your outbound hours, or on one sentence from you.
Two doctors on Answer & Act: $138 a month. A seat is a person with ten or more appointments on their name that month. Under ten they're free — stand-ins, part-timers and holiday cover cost nothing; the receptionist, the rooms and the owner-as-admin don't count at all. No contract: you stay because it works. Price for life: your rates are locked the moment you start — we may raise prices for new customers, yours never change, and moving between the two lines keeps your locked rates for both. Cancel or stop paying and the lock is forfeited. A commitment, not a promo. Early access is configured by hand and priced exactly like this.
Your visit types, your doctors and rooms, your hours, your plans of care. She's configured by hand for the first practices — a few at a time.
Put your site in. If we already know it, we skip the hunt. Then call her from the phone you give us — she'll know it's you.