What was wrong
The visitor is usually someone having a bad week, or their family, deciding late at night whether to make a hard call. Every hesitation costs the practice a patient. The old site added hesitation:
- Therapy and medication read as two separate businesses. Did choosing one mean giving up the other, or a second provider?
- Clinical language, useless to someone who doesn't yet have a word for what's wrong.
- No first step. Nothing said what happens if you call, insurance was left hanging, and the contact page asked a lot and promised nothing.
- Cold to look at. Stock photos and hospital blue, where the design should do half the reassuring.
What I built
Seven pages around one diagram: talk therapy and medication management drawn as two lines that join into one plan, above the fold. A picture of it is understood before it's read.
- A calm surface. Warm cream, not clinical white; a serif face, not the default sans.
- Plain words in front, clinical terms one level down.
- What happens when you call, in order, because the unknown is the barrier.
- A short contact form: the fewest fields for a call back, and when it will come.
- Phone-first, for one-handed reading at night.
Same base price as the freight site.
Two trades that couldn't be less alike, no shared template, one number. Not a discount; the price isn't a guess about what a trade can afford.
What's different now
No numbers: the practice's figures are theirs to publish, not mine. What's different is the site itself.
- Therapy and medication read as one plan before anyone scrolls.
- The first step is on the page, so calling isn't a leap into the unknown.
- It reads like a person wrote it, and it's legible on a phone at 11pm.
- Messages go straight to the practice's inbox. No portal, nothing to log into.
- Changes go live the same day. A new clinician, new hours, a new insurer: a text, and it's done.