Your portal knows what already happened. It can't tell you what to do now.
MyChart is a faithful record of your past — visits, labs, meds. But the question that actually governs your week isn't "what were my labs in March?" It's "what am I supposed to be doing now, and how does it change as things change?" Wubs is the answer to that question: a forward-looking care plan that's genuinely yours, stays aligned with your clinicians, covers everything you're managing at once, and adapts as your labs return and your life moves.
Everyone has agreed to ignore the hard part.
The hardest problem in consumer health is the one the whole app economy routes around: planning care for a real person managing real conditions over real time. Look at where each thing taps out.
They stop where disease begins.
"Sleep better, move more, stress less" is easy because it assumes a healthy body with nothing complicating it. The moment your sleep is tangled up with a thyroid condition or an SSRI taper, the wellness app goes quiet. It was never built to reason about your conditions.
They stop where your care team begins.
The diabetes app, the maternity app, the recovery app — each is fine inside its one condition. But you are not a single condition, and none of them aligns with what your own clinician actually told you to do. Manage three things at once and you're handed a folder of apps to coordinate by hand.
They'll talk all day. They hold nothing.
Ask a general chatbot about your labs and it will happily discuss whatever you paste in. But it keeps no plan for you between conversations — close the tab and it's gone. It answers the question in front of it; it isn't holding the thread of your care, watching for what's missing, or carrying anything to your next visit.
It's a record, not a plan.
The portal faithfully tells you what already happened — and even as it bolts on AI chat, that chat still answers questions about your past. It holds no plan going forward, because in most systems no durable, personalized, forward-looking plan exists in a form you can carry. That's the gap. That's Wubs.
A planner smart enough to speak doctor — without pretending to be one.
A general chatbot is a stranger with good recall. Wubs is categorically different: it keeps a working model of you and a working plan for you, and lets both drive every conversation. It isn't your clinician and never pretends to be — but it understands your clinician. It can read what your doctor wrote, hold it accurately, translate it into plain language, and help you walk into your next visit able to engage as an equal. The plan lives in your account, encrypted to you, and it adapts as your labs return, your meds change, your wearable trends shift, and your life moves. It doesn't just hold the plan — it tracks what the plan still needs: the lab that hasn't come back yet, the screening you haven't booked, the visit that should be on the calendar — so nothing load-bearing quietly slips. And — this is the part that makes it work — you help build it. A plan you helped author is a plan you actually follow.
It doesn't matter what you're managing. The loop is the same.
Wubs isn't a library of disease modules. It models you — your goal, your chart, your real-life constraints — and builds a plan from that. Which means it works the same way whether you're expecting a baby, recovering from surgery, starting cancer treatment, or juggling three conditions at once. A few short journeys:
Pregnancy · Elena
Elena is 28 weeks, with blood pressure creeping up and a glucose-tolerance test next week. Wubs already knows the test is coming — it's holding a slot for that result before it arrives — and it won't draw conclusions about her readings until it lands. It frames the questions she'll want to ask at her next visit, keeps her home BP readings labeled as home readings (not clinician-measured), and adjusts her plan the day the lab posts.
PT & imaging · Devin
Devin tore his ACL, has an MRI on the calendar and PT three times a week. His plan sequences around the surgery date the way his surgeon laid it out. When the radiology report posts, Wubs reads it back and reconciles it with what he was told in the room — and when a stray imaging measurement shows up tagged as a "vital sign," it doesn't panic him with a number his radiologist never flagged.
Behavioral health · Sam
Sam wants off their antidepressant by spring — safely. This is a clinical goal with a clinical plan behind it, not a willpower project. Wubs maps what makes the taper hard: the night shift that wrecks the morning dose, the quiet fear that stopping means relapse. It holds the plan to the clinician's pace, never the app's, and surfaces those human factors so the next visit can actually address them.
Cancer · Rosa
Rosa just started chemotherapy. The information arrives faster than anyone can absorb it. She hits Scribe in the room and Wubs captures the consult; afterward it helps her make sense of it, then reconciles it against the notes and labs once they publish. Her plan spans the cancer and the diabetes she still has — because she didn't stop being diabetic when she became a cancer patient.
Many things at once · Walt
Walt is 64: type 2 diabetes, high blood pressure, a new statin, and knees that hurt. No single-disease app fits him. Wubs holds all of it in one plan, reasons across the interactions a step-counter would miss, and gives him one coherent thing to do this week instead of four apps arguing with each other.
Different diseases. Different complexity. Same machine — because it plans around the person, not the diagnosis.
It's the evening before your follow-up. Wubs has read the after-visit summary, knows the A1c your endocrinologist is watching, and remembers you mentioned the new shift schedule that's been wrecking your mornings.
So instead of a generic checklist, it drafts the two questions actually worth your fifteen minutes — in language your doctor will recognize instantly — and the one number to bring up first. You walk in prepared, not lost.
That is what it means to have a planner that speaks doctor.
Three steps, then it just keeps adapting.
Start with a goal.
You and Wubs define a clinical goal — "recover well from this surgery," "get my A1c down," "get off the antidepressants by spring." A real goal with a clinical metric underneath it, not a vague wellness wish.
Wubs figures out what a safe answer needs — and fills it in.
From your goal, Wubs works out exactly which facts matter — including the ones that don't exist yet, like the lab due in three weeks. Then it fills them from your chart, your wearable, an uploaded after-visit summary, or just your answer in chat. It never makes you connect anything to get started.
You co-design the plan. It adapts.
You build the plan with Wubs — which is the part that actually makes it stick. Then it stays aligned: when your clinician changes something and it lands in your chart, Wubs reads it back and updates. Your clinician always governs.
A planner is only as good as what's underneath it.
Two things make this possible, and we've written about each in depth:
A context envelope that knows what a safe answer needs.
A patent-pending context envelope that knows what a safe answer requires before it answers, and waits rather than guessing when a load-bearing fact hasn't arrived yet.
Activation is a property of how the plan is made.
Activation isn't a feature we bolted on; it's a property of how the plan is made. The act of co-designing your plan is itself the intervention.
What Wubs is not.
- Not a diagnosis engine. Wubs never asserts a diagnosis or decides anything clinical — it organizes your evidence and helps you ask better questions.
- Not a prescriber. It never starts, stops, or changes a medication or dose.
- Not a replacement for your clinician. Your clinician's input always governs; Wubs helps you hold the plan between visits.
- Not a data-harvesting machine. Every question it asks traces to your own goal, in plain language. It doesn't fish.
- Not the sender. Wubs never messages your clinician for you — you review, edit, and send.
Wubs is in private alpha.
Available on Android today, with iOS coming. If you're managing something real and tired of being handed a record of your past instead of a plan for your week, request an invite.