Life Interrupted: When Tech Meets the Caregiver's Reality

Hey everyone, Luhith here! I'm over halfway through my third year of a Master’s in Physiotherapy, and I am currently hanging out with the team at Heba, conducting service user research. It's been a real rollercoaster, honestly. We're trying to figure out how technology can genuinely support parents and carers, but what I've discovered is that the gap between good intentions and real-life implementation is wider than I expected. It's not just about building a helpful app; it's about understanding the chaotic, unpredictable realities of the people we're trying to reach. What I thought would be straightforward user feedback turned into a series of deeply human stories, revealing the challenges of fitting tech into lives already bursting at the seams.

My experience with speaking to people about Heba

So, I've been diving deep into what parents and carers using Heba are saying. And honestly? It's been a real eye-opener. The big takeaway? You're busy. Like, really busy. And you're telling me, "Hey, this app? It's a lifesaver! I can jump in, log meds, track appointments, no problem." But then I found out weeks later, when I asked, “How was the app?” there were comments like, I haven't found the time yet, or I haven't figured the app out fully yet. I had a really honest chat with one of our users the other day, and it hit home how real life can throw a wrench in even the best-laid plans. This husband was super keen to give us feedback on the Heba app, but then… life happened. His wife had a rough night and couldn't sleep a wink, and naturally, he was right there, taking care of her. I mean, who wouldn't be? So, by the time morning rolled around and we were supposed to chat about the app, he was running on fumes. Honestly, he was just plain exhausted. And you know what? That's understandable. Sometimes, life throws you curveballs, and your energy just gets zapped. It's a reminder that even the most helpful tools are only useful if you've got the bandwidth to use them.

Another experience I had was at the clinic the other day, introducing the Heba app to a lovely woman, and wow, talk about a snapshot of modern life! She was swamped, rushing to get to work after juggling caring for her husband and keeping up with her kids. We started to walk through the app's features, but she was clearly on a tight schedule. She was interested, but time was just not on our side. It was a classic 'blink and you'll miss it' situation. She was keen to learn more but just couldn't fully engage there and then. It highlighted how crucial it is for us to make that first impression count.

What struck me during these conversations wasn't just the logistical challenges, but the underlying sense of vulnerability. It's not easy to admit you're struggling to keep up, especially when you're already carrying so much. There's a real fear of missing something important, of not being 'good enough' as a caregiver. It's clear they genuinely want to engage with Heba, to unlock its potential, but the stark reality is that time, that precious commodity, is simply not on their side.

So, where does all this leave us? Well, it's clear that Heba has the potential to be a powerful tool, but the potential is only as good as its practical application. My time speaking with users has shown me that simply having a great app isn't enough. We need to bridge the gap between initial interest and sustained engagement. The 'blink and you'll miss it' principle is a real challenge. What I think as a service user myself trialling the app, is that we need to provide clear, accessible resources that empower users to explore Heba's full potential on their terms, and at their own pace. A simple, step-by-step user guide, or even short, digestible video tutorials, could make a world of difference. Ultimately, it's about recognising that our users aren't just data points; they're people facing real, complex challenges. By listening and adapting, we can ensure that Heba truly becomes a valuable support system, not just another app they don't have time for.