Two rooms, same problem.
Chronic-illness data is fragmented by default. Some of it lives in a paper notebook. Some of it in a patient portal you have to log in to a hospital's 2008 website to read. Some in three apps that each track one thing and refuse to talk to each other. The patient is the integration layer — re-explaining a thirty-year medical history at every appointment, from memory.
On the trucks, patients arrived who couldn't name their own medications. They'd brought the pill bottles in a plastic bag, or a list scrawled on the back of a receipt. People who had been managing their own care for years.
That's the paramedic view. The patient view is the same thing from the inside — keeping notes in a journal, photos of pill bottles on your phone, screenshots of lab results, a calendar event you set to remember the dose. It works. Until you're tired, or sick, or in an ED with someone who needs the whole picture in thirty seconds.
I started building Leo because I wanted one calm place for the whole picture. Not a chatbot to decide things for you. Not an AI prediction that tells you when you're about to get sick. Just a record — meds, vitals, symptoms, journal entries, lab results — that you can actually use, and actually share with the people who care for you.