Homestead
Helping first-time homebuyers actually understand what they're looking at.
Proptech
0 -> 1
Role
Product Designer
Timeline
8 weeks
team
2 Enginners, 1 PM, me
platform
Web
The Real Problem
Therapists at Meridian Health were documenting 3-5 client sessions daily. Each one meant clicking through 12 different screens, re-entering the same information multiple times, and hoping nothing crashed before they finished. People were losing work, getting disoriented, and spending 15-20 minutes per note when they had clients waiting.
But here's what made it worse: the interface gave no indication of progress. Therapists would finish what felt like the last screen, only to discover three more hidden steps. The 'back' button sometimes saved your work and sometimes didn't. There was no auto-save, so one accidental click could erase 15 minutes of careful documentation.
The feedback we got was pointed:
'I genuinely don't know if I'm done or if there are more screens hiding somewhere.'
'I've lost the same note three times this week.'
'Why am I entering the session date in four different places?'
The underlying issue wasn't just bad UI—it was that nobody had ever looked at the complete journey. Each screen had been built separately over time, and they'd never been stitched into a coherent experience.
Finding the Fix
I started by mapping the entire 12-screen flow—not just the UI, but how data moved between screens, where duplication happened, and where people got stuck. After analyzing support tickets and survey responses, three problems stood out:
No sense of progress. People couldn't tell where they were or what was left.
No safety net. One wrong click and your work vanished.
Clunky information architecture. Screens were organized by database structure, not by how therapists actually think about documentation.
The clinical directors I interviewed described session notes as 'telling the story of what happened'—context, observations, interventions, next steps. But the interface chopped that story into arbitrary fragments.
So I focused on three fixes:
A progress indicator that showed completed sections, current section, and what's remaining—always visible, always clear.
Auto-save with real feedback. Not just saving in the background, but showing therapists exactly when their work was protected.
Consolidating screens from 12 to 7 by grouping related information the way therapists actually think about it, not the way the database happened to be structured.
All achievable within our constraints. No backend overhaul required.
What Actually Happened
I wireframed the new flow and tested it with our internal clinical expert and customer success team (who talked to therapists daily). That's where I caught my mistakes.
For example: I'd grouped 'treatment goals' and 'session interventions' together because they seemed related. But therapists think about them at totally different points—goals get reviewed before the session, interventions get documented after. Keeping them separate made more sense.
The auto-save design also evolved. My first version showed a brief 'Saved' notification that disappeared quickly. Beta testers said they didn't notice it and still felt anxious. I changed it to a persistent 'Last saved [time]' indicator that updated live. Small tweak, massive difference in confidence.
We shipped to a small beta group first. The response was immediate—therapists noticed the progress bar and auto-save within minutes. We adjusted some section labels based on feedback, then rolled it out to everyone.
What Changed
Documentation time dropped from 15-20 minutes to 7-10 minutes. Support tickets about lost work decreased by 78% in the first month. In a follow-up survey, 89% of therapists said the new system was easier or much easier than before.
But my favorite feedback was qualitative
'This is exactly what I needed—I can finally see where I am.'
'I haven't lost a note since the update. Game changer.'
'It actually feels like someone asked us what we needed.'
Zero people requested to go back to the old version, which felt like the real success metric.
What I Had to Work With
No direct access to therapists. HIPAA compliance and client confidentiality meant I couldn't shadow sessions or run live usability tests. I had user surveys, interviews with clinical directors, and months of support tickets. Not ideal, but enough to identify patterns.
A rigid design system. The platform used a third-party component library we couldn't modify. Custom solutions weren't an option—I had to work within existing patterns.
An 8-week deadline. Leadership wanted improvements shipped fast. A complete rebuild wasn't realistic.
These constraints shaped everything. Instead of reimagining the whole system, I focused on the changes that would have the biggest impact with the least structural upheaval.
What I'd Do Differently
I'd push harder for access to real users earlier. Working through intermediaries gave me valuable insights, but I missed nuances that only come from watching someone actually struggle with an interface. Even one shadowing session would have accelerated my understanding.
I'd also document existing problems more systematically. I relied heavily on anecdotal feedback and support tickets, which worked—but a proper heuristic evaluation would have given me clearer evidence when advocating for changes.
What I Learned
Strategic improvements beat perfect overhauls. I wanted to rebuild everything into a sleek single-page experience. But given our constraints, that wasn't realistic. The three focused changes we made—progress visibility, auto-save, better IA—delivered serious value without requiring a ground-up rebuild.
Mental models beat logic. What made sense to me (grouping related data) didn't always match how therapists thought. Validating assumptions with people who actually do the work saved me from shipping something technically correct but functionally wrong.
Invisible design builds trust. The 'Last saved' indicator wasn't technically necessary—the system was auto-saving either way. But it transformed how people felt about the experience. Sometimes the most important design work is making invisible processes visible.
This is sample content for portfolio development purposes. Replace with your actual case studies when ready.
