
Four therapists, two clinics and a school on Wednesdays, weekly half-hour sessions and a phone hour of 8:30 to 9:00. Stella answers every call, books intakes and sessions into each therapist's real day at each place, reminds, reschedules — and keeps the plan on rhythm when a week goes wrong.
Good morning, Clearwater Speech & Language, this is Stella — how can I help you?
This isn't a software problem. Someone has to pick up — warmly, without an interrogation — know every therapist's day at every place, and fill the 3:15 before it's a hole.
Before the phone hour, so normally the machine. Stella answers, asks one yes/no about place, hears the real answer, and books the intake where it's soonest.
The universal six, and two that matter when your team is spread across clinics and schools and the referral comes outside the phone hour.
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.
The referral is the most important call of the week, and it almost never lands between 8:30 and 9:00. Stella answers, asks whether there's a GP referral or it's direct, books the intake at the nearest place — or puts the child on the waitlist and texts the parent the moment there's room.
Therapists work at the clinic and at schools. Availability is per therapist, per place, per half-day — so when Marloes is at the school on Wednesdays, Stella doesn't offer clinic slots there, and vice versa. Sooner at the other clinic? She says so, with the place.
She takes the 7:38 text the moment it comes — the mother doesn't have to wait until nine and forget. 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 — 24 hours' notice, a make-up credit, a fee — is yours; she states it plainly, applies it the same way every time, and never guilt-trips a parent.
Everyone on the short-notice list asked to be on it. Nobody is nagged; nobody hears another client's business.
Rain, a burst pipe, a birth, the autoclave, the hall double-booked — the whole block moves, and it's your call, not the client's. You say it once; she works out who's affected, offers each person 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 people who haven't left home yet get the call and the choice; the people already in the room get the honest ETA and a coffee; nobody further out is touched until the delay is still growing. Nobody hears why; nobody rings the desk.
The school's shut for a burst pipe — move Wednesday's sessions to the clinic or next week, parents' choice.
Most calendars think in appointments. Stella thinks in three layers, and the top one is the therapist's: the treatment plan, how it normally sits in the week, and the actual sessions on the actual days.
Phone hour 8:30 to 9:00 — and the referrals come at 8:20, 12:40 and 7:15.
A panel at each clinic's desk: who's next, with whom, what changed. One button to say “move Noor to four.” Suppliers and scam calls never make it into the practice.
Whoever's at the school sees their own day on their phone — only what can't wait buzzes. At the desk, everything lands quietly on the panel.
No “press one”. No “your call is important to us”. No recorded disclaimers before a human word. Warm, short, present — and honest if you ask what she is.
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.
Your therapists and where they are on which day — clinics and schools —, your intake and session lengths, your cancellation policy, your words. She's configured by hand for the first practices — a few at a time.
Stella is in early access with a small number of practices and salons. Tell us about your phone and we'll tell you plainly whether she fits — and when.