A circle of care around the people who wait.
When someone you love is in the hospital, the family becomes a switchboard. Careline is one calm page that holds today's update — so the person on duty stops repeating themselves, and the rest of the family stops feeling far away.
The phone never stops ringing.
When information is fragmented across WhatsApp threads, voice notes and discharge papers, everyone is anxious — and the person on duty is exhausted.A loved one is admitted. One relative camps at the bedside, talks to doctors, sees the monitors. Twelve other relatives — across cities, across countries — call. Each asks the same thing.
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→ 01
The caregiver retells the same story 40 times a day. Translating medical jargon, recapping numbers, soothing fear. They burn out on the relay.
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→ 02
Family abroad feels powerless. Especially the elderly relatives who can't fly in. They want to be present and don't know how.
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→ 03
The data is everywhere and nowhere. Photos in the camera roll, voice memos, paper printouts, three separate group chats. Nothing gets aggregated.
Today · Stable
Stable- Slept 6h 20m, fed normally at 6:00.
- Dr. Conti: "We're cautiously optimistic."
- MRI scheduled Tuesday.
A big, big hug, my little lion. You are the strongest of all.
We think of you every minute, little Leo.
One link. One password. One quiet page.
Setup takes ten minutes. The page replaces the phone calls — and the family takes care of itself.Open a Careline.
Add the patient's name, age and the hospital. Choose one shared password. Done. No accounts, no invitations to chase.
Share the link with the family.
One message in the WhatsApp group. Anyone with the password can open it on any phone — grandmothers, cousins, family abroad.
The family writes back.
You post the day's update; the family writes letters of love. You read them aloud at the bedside. The page becomes the keepsake.
Everything the family needs.
Nothing more.
A timeline, today's vitals, photos, hospital info — and a quiet space for letters. Built for reading on the bus, in bed, in waiting rooms.
A timeline of the days that mattered.
Admissions, procedures, conversations with doctors. Color-coded, calm, scannable. The family knows what happened — without you retelling it.
- DAY 7 · 09:40 MRI scheduled — brain assessment
- DAY 5 · 14:20 Conversation with Dr. Conti
- DAY 3 · 10:00 Moved to NICU step-down
Today's numbers, in plain words.
Weight, temperature, oxygen. Color-coded by status: emerald is stable, butter is watch, coral is now. No charts to interpret in panic.
Letters from the family — read aloud at the bedside.
The family writes a few warm words. The caregiver reads them aloud to the patient. The wall of letters becomes the keepsake nobody knew they needed.
Photos in chronological order.
The day's photo at the top. A quiet way for distant family to see, every morning.
Reads in three languages.
Italian for the in-laws. Russian for grandmother. English for everyone else. The interface follows; the letters keep the writer's voice.
Hospital details.
Address, ward, visiting hours, the doctor's direct line. So nobody has to ask twice.
Bologna · NICU floor 3
Private by default. One password for the whole family.
No accounts, no email signups, no profiles to maintain. Share the link with the family chat, share the password, done. JWT in an httpOnly cookie keeps the session for 30 days.
The wall of letters is the soul of Careline.
A small, warm thing the family writes to the patient. The caregiver reads them aloud at the bedside.I'm sending you a big hug, my little lion. You are the strongest of all. I'm waiting for you back home in Chișinău — we'll bake warm pies together.
We think of you every minute, little Leo. The whole Milan side of the family sends you an enormous kiss. You are the bravest boy we know.
Hey little Leo. We're all sending you so much love from Rome. Mom said you opened your eyes today — that's enough. Rest. We're here.
In the family pilot · 147 letters written · 9 family members writing · 4 countries
This is health data. We treat it like it.
Hosted in the EU, gated by one shared password, never sold, never analytics-tracked.Quiet by design.
A page about a hospitalized loved one is not a place for tracking pixels, marketing pings, or growth nudges. Careline runs in the EU, opens with one shared password, and gets out of the way.
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One shared password. bcrypt-hashed, never stored in code or database. JWT in httpOnly cookie · 30-day session.
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EU residency. Servers in West Europe (Amsterdam). Data never leaves the EU.
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No analytics. No third parties. No Google Analytics. No Plausible. No tracking pixels of any kind. Privacy by default.
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Right to erase, anytime. The caregiver can hide or remove any letter or update — and one button erases the whole page.
Free during the family pilot.
Careline started for one family. We're keeping it small until it's right. Open a page, use it, tell us how it felt.Right now, the only thing we want is feedback.
This is a pilot, not a product launch. If your family is keeping vigil and you want a quieter way to share the day's news, write us — we'll set you up.
When it's ready for real, the price will be small (a coffee a month) and the free tier will stay generous. No surprise bills, no growth gymnastics.
- One private Careline page · custom subdomain
- Unlimited letters from the family
- Daily updates, vitals, timeline, photos
- RU · IT · EN — language toggle
- EU hosting · one-button erase
- Email us for help · we read everything
What families ask before opening a page.
Short answers. Email us if your question isn't here.Is this a substitute for talking to a doctor?
Who can read the page?
Where is the data stored?
Can I delete everything?
What languages does it speak?
Do you use AI?
How do I open a Careline?
You don't have to be the switchboard anymore.
Open a Careline for your family. Free during the pilot, no card, set up in ten minutes.