Every family already has a Chief Medical Officer.
She schedules the appointments, watches the meds, reads the discharge papers twice, and answers the 2 a.m. phone call. She's been doing the job for years — without the title, the tools, or the paycheck. The Hearth exists to fix all three.
Manage it. Document it. Get paid for it. Be respected for it.
The Grid
The week's plan with names on every task, one-tap claiming, and a dispatch directory of nine real services she can deploy to a loved one's door from any state — respite, meals, rides, check-ins, meds.
Open the GridThe Ledger
Every hour of presence, dated and counted — the audit trail for the care agreement, the evidence for the caregiver exemption, the answer to "what do you even do all day?" In rows.
Open the LedgerThe capture chain
Physician of record → written plan of care (§7702B) → care agreement → HSA/FSA via LMN → the tax-season captures → GUIDE if dementia. Walked in order, each link makes the next one legal.
Walk the chainThe appointment
The family names its CMO — in writing, dated, sealed to the charter, shared to the group chat. A title costs nothing and changes how every conversation after it goes. Her own Claude becomes her chief of staff.
Make the appointmentDoing the hard thing creates the value.
Home-cooked care delays the $114,975-a-year facility, prevents the falls, catches the med problems — and today the system keeps every dollar of that. The CMO room documents the prevention, dates it, and turns it into the family's negotiating file. Better caregiving → better outcomes → the savings accrue to the person who gave a damn.
Give her the title. Then give her the tools.
Found your co-opShe was always the Chief Medical Officer. Now it says so somewhere.