hellofax.ai / Reports
An administrator shouldn’t have to remember to open a dashboard. hellofax emails your practice its own figures — daily, weekly and monthly — so how the queue and the phones were handled arrives with the morning. A bad Thursday is something you read about on Friday, not something a referring office tells you about in November.
Every figure in the email is there to answer one of them. Nothing is in it because it happened to be easy to count.
What arrived against what was finished, the share closed inside 24 hours, and the median hours from arrival to done. The first says whether the volume was cleared at all; the other two say how fast — and speed is the half of the question a staffing conversation actually turns on.
Arrivals broken out by folder, in your practice’s own categories. A month where refills doubled and referrals held steady is a different resourcing problem from the reverse — and without the split, both just look like “we’re busier.”
Two figures deliberately describe this morning rather than the period: how many faxes have sat open more than two days, and how many are waiting on a person. They answer “what needs somebody today” — a question about the present, not the past.
This one is a Monday, so the daily and the weekly arrive together in a single email — headed per period, shortest first, so the week’s figures can never be mistaken for the weekend’s.
Sample — every figure below is illustrative and the practice is fictional. Nothing in a real report identifies a patient either.
Northside Pain & Spine
31 August 2026
Numbers for the Monday huddle.
28–30 August 2026
24–30 August 2026
Sections are chosen per schedule — this practice keeps the weekly to referrals only, so the Monday glance stays short.
Figures in red are the ones worth a look.
Open hellofax for the detail behind any of them.
This email contains counts only — no patient information.
Run any of them, all of them, or none. Each keeps its own choice of sections, so a short daily glance and a full monthly review can be different documents.
Yesterday, on your desk this morning. It follows the working week: Monday’s covers Friday, Saturday and Sunday together, because faxes keep arriving when the office is shut and a Friday-only window would leave every Sunday in no report at all. Nothing arrives at the weekend.
Seven days ending the day before, on whichever morning suits your management meeting. This is the cadence a trend becomes visible at — one slow Wednesday is noise; three in a row is a rota problem.
The whole of the month just ended, on the first morning of the next — the one that goes in front of a partner or an owner, and the one that answers “is this month worse, or does it just feel worse?”
You set a single hour for the whole practice rather than one per schedule — which is what makes the merging dependable instead of lucky. Everything due on a morning becomes due at the same moment, so it always leaves together: a Monday brings the daily and the weekly, the 1st brings the daily and the monthly, and a 1st that falls on a Monday brings all three, in one message.
Periods are worked out in your practice’s own time zone, not a server’s, so “Tuesday” means the Tuesday your staff worked. A report never quotes a day that hasn’t finished, and a period that has already been reported is never sent twice — whatever else happens that morning.
The report is where an administrator finds out that something slipped. The app is where they find out where, and who. The two are deliberately different documents.
Turnaround, the share finished inside a day, answered against missed, referrals contacted, the worst day for missed calls — how the practice handled its own work, on a rhythm that doesn’t depend on anyone remembering to check. A slide shows up as a trend rather than as a complaint. And the figures worth acting on are printed in red, so the problem is findable without reading every line.
Behind each of them, in the app, the activity log names who filed, called, texted and booked — on an audit trail nobody can edit. The email tells you to look; the log tells you where.
Arrivals by folder say which kind of work grew. Calls in, and the day they landed on, say when the phones need a second person. Open more than two days and never-called referrals say what the next hour should be spent on. Where you put somebody on Monday morning stops being a guess about which queue “felt busy” last week.
Referral counts exclude the notification faxes partner networks send ahead of the documents themselves — counting both read referral volume nearly 20% high, which is a hiring decision made on a number that was never real.
Email is the one thing hellofax sends that no permission, policy or audit trail can reach once it has gone. The report is shaped around that fact.
No patient name, date of birth, phone number, note or document ever appears in a report. What it reads are integers and nothing else — enforced in the code and pinned by a test, not left to whoever edits the template next. Anything that names a patient stays behind sign-in, and the email links back into hellofax instead of quoting it.
Only somebody who already holds a hellofax account at your practice can be added. Type an address that isn’t one and it is refused, by name, rather than quietly dropped. Switch a leaver off under Team and their reports stop the same day — there is no second mailing list anybody has to remember to tidy.
The fax machine isn’t going anywhere. The hours it eats can.