Getting a pTau-217 blood test for Alzheimer’s Risk
In my last blog post I shared that I decided — as part of my “What to Do in Retirement” theme — to get a blood test that measures pTau-217, one of the earliest and most accurate biomarkers for Alzheimer’s disease. They now know that Alzheimer’s pathology can begin 15–20 years before symptoms, so early detection is becoming as important as cholesterol testing.
Last week, I got the results.
➡ My pTau-217 level is 0.13 pg/mL. ➡ Which means… absolutely nothing alarming. In fact, it’s great news!
Research labs all over the world (BioFINDER, Mayo Clinic, Alzheimer’s Research & Therapy, JAMA Neurology studies) use cutoffs ranging from 0.27 to 0.59 pg/mL to indicate early Alzheimer’s activity.
My number? 0.13. “Low Risk” – This was a huge relief, but since these tests are new, I still wasn’t sure what exactly it meant. Did it mean I was in the clear for life?
So, thanks to Google and ChatGPT, I did more research and found out:
I’m not in the 20-year preclinical Alzheimer’s window.
I don’t have measurable amyloid or tau buildup.
My risk for developing symptoms in the next 10–15 years is considerably lower than average, even with family history.
How often should we test for pTau-217?
Experts say pTau-217 levels rise extremely slowly, so every 2–3 years is a reasonable interval — unless I join a clinical study.
Now that the results are in, it’s easy for me to say I’m glad I got tested. I’d been obsessively worried and now I can breathe easier. However, those who are high-risk are eligible to participate in trials. The best time to be able to influence the outcome is before symptoms begin to show during the “20-year preclinical Alzheimer’s window.”
If you’re curious about your own risk, I did my free screening through CareAccess, and they even gave me a $45 gift card. Here’s my referral link: http://friends.careaccess.com/783Mjz
Whether or not you get tested or are low-risk or high-risk, I think we could all benefit from having a brain-healthy lifestyle. This year, my blogging theme was “retirement.” Next year, it’s going to be about Healthy Aging, with an emphasis on Brain Health!
I’m excited to share all that I’m learning about Alzheimer’s and the brain.
I try to have a yearly theme for my blog and this year it was going to be fun things to do in retirement. I’ve covered both the usual (Solo Travel!) and the unusual (Light Therapy). Now there’s something new I can do! Something I wasn’t able to do before this year: Find out my Alzheimer’s risk in retirement. (Yay!)
I didn’t exactly have “get a pTau blood test” on my bucket list, but here we are.
Asking My Doctor
I’ve been somewhat obsessive about brain health since my Mom’s been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. When I read about the new blood tests that are out I’d been internally debating about whether or not I should find out my risk.
“I should at least find out if they’re available and covered by insurance,” I thought.
So at my annual exam, I bravely asked my doctor.
Her response was against it and included comments such as…
“It’s too new.”
“It’s not covered by insurance.” and
“I have a patient who really has problems and it’s not even covered for her.”
I was mildly relieved that I apparently was not as impaired as at least one of her other patients.
According to her, the test wasn’t recommended unless I was already showing signs of Alzheimer’s—like forgetfulness, confusion, or putting my keys in the refrigerator. I was also relieved she didn’t mention constantly getting lost which has been a problem of mine my entire life.
Meanwhile, I take the AARP cognitive test every three months and swear I’m improving. (Now that I’ve memorized the test.)
I can wait for the blood tests to be covered, I thought.
The $1,000 Blood Test That Wasn’t Meant to Be
In my continued quest to stay up-to-date, I kept hearing about these blood tests and how the earlier high-risk Alzheimer’s can be detected, the more chance there is that it can be prevented or delayed with lifestyle changes.
I called a neurologist who offered the test. They quoted me over $1,000, not covered by insurance.
I decided I should just make all the lifestyle changes as if I were high risk. No more alcohol, no more sugar, only whole foods, and daily exercise.
Enter CareAccess: The Unexpected Hero
Then—thank you, targeted advertising gods—I saw an ad for CareAccess, offering the test for free for people over 55 with a family history of Alzheimer’s.
Woo Hoo! Maybe I could go back to eating somewhat poorly and drinking margaritas again!
And to sweeten the deal, they gave me a $45 preloaded Mastercard just for participating.
Last Monday, I got the blood test—full lipid panel and the Alzheimer’s pTau marker. I’ll get the results next week. (Until then, I’m savoring unhealthy foods and drinks.)
Am I Nervous? Yup. But Also…Realistic.
Here’s my thinking:
Even if the results say I’m “high risk,” it’s not that different than getting news that I’m going to die someday.
My mom didn’t show symptoms until her late 80s, and research has advanced dramatically since then.
Today we have:
medications
brain-healthy lifestyle recommendations
actual hope!
And I already LOVE doing a lot of the brain-healthy stuff like socializing, learning, and sleeping! (And I can learn to love healthier eating and more exercise.)
Why I Still Want to Know
Many people don’t want to know their Alzheimer’s risk. Totally understandable.
But for me, knowing earlier gives me more time to plan, adjust, and to have the motivation to stick to the healthiest lifestyle I’ve ever had.
Full disclosure: I get $25 if you get the test yourself. If you know me, hit me up and we’ll spend it together on a brain-healthy meal! (Or maybe a celebratory drink before we start on our brain-healthy regimen.)
Carpe Diem, Brain Edition
Retirement gives us the gift of time—and knowing our Alzheimer’s risk in retirement can help us make the most of it. Whether you want to learn more, stay blissfully unaware, or just enjoy the $45 gift card like I did, the important thing is this:
One of the joys of living a Carpe Diem lifestyle is saying “yes” to new things—even better when it’s something I’ve never heard of before and good for my brain! My friend Cathy recently told me about The Light Club in Boulder, a place that is unique, immersive, and beneficial for brain health. Count me IN!
Walking inside felt like stepping into a dreamlike sanctuary. With patterned textiles, crystal formations, geometric sculptures, mirrored accents, and soft, shifting lights, the entire space buzzed with color and creativity. The walls were painted my favorite color – you guessed it – purple! It was part art installation, part meditation space, and entirely unlike anything I’d experienced.
By the way, I love trying to match my attire to whatever celebration or experience I’m having, and look how perfectly my purple attire fit in!
The Light Club Experience
Cathy and I lay down on two mildly vibrating beds (head-to-head) draped with vibrant fabrics. Above us hung intricate geometric structures, strands of beads, and special lights. Before the session began, we put on high-quality headphones, and even the simple introduction sounded like it came from some other dimension. The audio felt close, rich, and fully immersive—like a hologram for the ears.
When the session started, we closed our eyes. Even with no external visuals, I began seeing colors, patterns, and shapes dancing behind my eyelids. These weren’t projected by the room—they were created by my own brain, responding to sound, light, and relaxation. It was mesmerizing in a way that felt both soothing and mentally stimulating.
A Tiny Moment of Confusion (Thanks to a Fly!)
At one point, I felt a faint buzzing sensation on my upper lip. Because my eyes were closed and the headphones blocked all real-world noise, I honestly wondered if this was some kind of unexpected sensory component of The Light Club experience—though definitely not one I would have signed up for!
After a moment of uncertainty, I swatted at it and felt it flutter away. Sure enough, after the session ended, I confirmed: it was a real fly, not some experimental sensory technology. A funny reminder that even in an otherworldly environment, nature still participates.
A Microadventure for Brain Health
The Light Club felt like a natural extension of my “Year of Microadventures”—those unique, curious, low-effort adventures that add novelty and joy to everyday life.
What I loved most was the blend of relaxation, sensory stimulation, and simple fun. It wasn’t just visually and aurally immersive—it was a moment to step out of routine and let my brain explore something new.
To be honest, it reminded me a bit of the Psilocybin journey I took a couple of years ago, but without the psilocybin!
Also, I’d like to note, that there is a whole lot more to the science behind light and sound waves and how they can help our brains. Being a newbie, I just got an initial appetizer into a world full of recipes.
Would I Recommend The Light Club?
Absolutely. If you’re in Boulder and curious about mindfulness, creativity, or brain-healthy experiences, The Light Club is worth a try. It was kind of a woo-woo experience for this engineer, but just trying new things builds neuroplasticity, so, if you get the chance, do it!
it’s a soothing, colorful, and memorable microadventure—especially when shared with a good friend.
Virtual NYE Celebration with Shirley, Dec.31, 2020
Yesterday, I got a text from my friend, Shirley. Though our friendship began online, she quickly “graduated” from a virtual friend to a real friend—long before we ever met in person.
In her text, Shirley told me that she was grieving for a friend who had died. She introduced me to a term I wasn’t aware of, “Cybergrief” and included a hyperlink to an article about the topic.
Cybergrief
A quick Google search led me to this definition::
Cybergrief is the natural emotional response to a cyberloss, which is the death of someone who was known primarily through an online connection. It’s a legitimate form of grief, distinct from offline losses, though it shares many core human aspects of mourning. Unique challenges include a lack of social empathy for these online losses and the complexity of navigating public mourning on social media, according to The New York Times.
Grief of any sort is tough to navigate, but as the article and the definition describes, cybergrief also has the complication of societal norms and judgments.
As is the case when I hear about any kind of “societal norms or judgments,” I can feel my own judgment meter going up against the judgers! No one should be judged for who they grieve, how they grieve, or how long they grieve! Isn’t it bad enough to be grieving at all without having the additional complication of feeling judged for it?
I guess another trigger for me is the implication that “virtual friends” are not “real friends.” I’ll admit, declaring romantic love for someone you’ve only met online might be premature (and I know a few relationships that didn’t survive that test). That being said, I know people can have deep and meaningful friendships with people who they haven’t met in real life.
When is a friendship “real”?
Many people think a relationship isn’t “real” until two people meet in person. I disagree. To me, a relationship is real when two real people are communicating honestly. Sometimes, that kind of connection can even be deeper than what happens face-to-face.
Shirley and I first met virtually because we were both bloggers. We’d both subscribed to a group that included prompts for bloggers. This was December, 2010, the month that my friend, Craig Dunham, died from ALS. My blog posts centered around my grief and the amazing influence Craig had on my life.
Looking back, I realize that our friendship itself was born out of grief — and healing through Shirley’s deep and genuine empathy.
In this post, I respond to the prompt: What was one of your most joyful ordinary moments this year?
I write about my new virtual friend, Shirley, and include this paragraph:
Shirley acknowledged and honored the grief I’ve been feeling about my friend, Craig. She read many of the posts I’d written about him and told me that she was moved to tears. It’s hard to describe how warm and wonderful it feels to have someone — a stranger — tell you that. It makes me feel like I kept a little part of Craig alive. Grief is a very hard emotion… we feel so sad… but if we can somehow just take that love that we lost and keep it alive by sharing it with someone else… and they “get it”… they truly get how wonderful and special that person was, even without knowing him or her personally… we feel like that love is still amongst us.
Shirley and I ended up meeting virtually weekly with two other blogger friends. We also met 1:1 virtually via Zoom several times and in person a few times even though I live in Colorado and she lives in San Francisco.
In Real Life Reunion with Shirley, January, 2025
Shirley is the type of friend who is supportive, responsive, caring and understanding. Sure, meeting physically adds to the friendship, but the friendship was there because she was genuine from her first lovely message.
Grief for people we’ve never met
This week many people are grieving for Jane Goodall. I’m not sure if this fits into the same category as “cybergrief” but I know I feel a sense of grief when someone I admire dies, even if I never met them. It just feels so sad that they are no longer here, on this earth, bringing joy to others (and the animal kingdom!).
Jane Goodall reminds me of another great friend, Becky Burns. In this old post, I write about Becky’s great communication skills with people and with animals. Once a boy asked her if she was Jane Goodall!
I know Becky was especially hit hard with the death of Jane Goodall, someone she’s always deeply admired.
Becky with her dog, Carla
Virtual friendships and grief in retirement
In these retirement years, they say friendships are more difficult to make. Partly, that’s because many of our friends originated from our work life. It also may be because we are more limited in the social functions we can attend.
Certainly, I’ve found the ability to connect with people virtually to be a wonderful perk of living in this day and age! (But, then again, I’ve always been a bit of an introverted geek.)
In the end, both friendship and grief are personal. They’re about love and admiration, not about how often we’ve met in person. Our friendships and grief should never be judged as “not real” by society. Only we can judge the depth of our feelings about our emotions or our relationships.
Grief is so difficult, but something, I’m afraid, that is one of the downsides of aging. Our “real” friends (whether in person or virtual) are there for us, help us through the pain, and bring us the joy of being seen and understood.
Whether our friends live down the street or on the other side of a screen, what matters most is that we show up for one another — with empathy, honesty, and love.
One of the things I love most about Carpe Diem Day is finding joy in celebrating the many “little-known holidays” that brighten our calendars. Today is one that feels especially meaningful: National Alzheimer’s Day. It’s a chance to raise awareness, celebrate the progress being made in research, and take steps — big and small — to keep our brains healthy.
This year, it’s personal. My mom recently moved into a memory care facility close to my sister, Michele. While the transition has been difficult, there’s comfort in knowing she’s safe, cared for, and close to family. Thanks to a simple but powerful tool — the Echo Show — I’m able to “drop in” with video calls when I can’t be there in person. Technology, in this case, really does help us seize the day and stay connected.
Celebrating research progress
Scientists are uncovering new insights about Alzheimer’s every year, and there are promising treatments on the horizon. These advances remind me that hope and progress are alive and well.
Making a difference today
On this National Alzheimer’s Day, there’s a special way to amplify your impact. The BrightFocus Foundation is tripling all donations made today — turning every $1 into $3 for Alzheimer’s research and support. If you’d like to join in, here’s the link: BrightFocus Triple Match.
Everyday brain health
We can also celebrate by caring for our own brains:
Moving our bodies — walking, dancing, stretching.
Eating nutritious, colorful foods.
Staying socially connected.
Challenging ourselves with new activities, like learning a skill or playing a game.
Carpe diem isn’t about ignoring challenges; it’s about finding ways to live fully in the midst of them. On this National Alzheimer’s Day, that means honoring loved ones like my mom, supporting the research that brings us hope, and practicing simple daily habits that keep our own brains bright and strong.
💜 Here’s to living fully, loving deeply, and celebrating every moment — one special day at a time.
Read more about my Mom’s journey with AD in these posts:
Last month, Mom landed in the hospital with sepsis. (Don’t worry—she’s doing much better now!) While she was still in her hospital bed, a volunteer wheeled in a keyboard and started playing Que Sera, Sera. And there was Mom—singing right along, like she hadn’t missed a beat.
Seeing that video reminded me how powerful music can be, especially for people with dementia. I went hunting through my old piano books and pulled out The Sound of Music. (Yes, I still had it from childhood!) I started practicing, and during our nightly calls, I’d play for Mom. She’d hum or sing along, and no matter how many notes I missed, she always ended with, “Oh, I just LOVED that!” Yes, she’ll always be my biggest fan!
It’s become our sweet little bedtime ritual—me practicing, her singing, neither of us caring that it’s the same routine every night. (Though our nightly concert might be wearing thin for my house-mates, John and Mari!)
When I visited Mom in person last week, we even recorded her singing The Sound of Music. And right at the end, as she sang, “My heart will be blessed with the sound of music, and I’ll sing once more,” I teared up and totally screwed up my notes at the exact most emotional moment. Typical me!
Now, I don’t want to make it sound like music is the only way to reach Mom. She’s always brighter when she sees me, either via FaceTime and especially, in person. But music definitely adds an extra sparkle. It makes her happy. It makes me happy. And it brings back a flood of memories for both of us.
I Simply Remember My Favorite Things
Music has been a part of our family’s history throughout my life. Mom played the piano and my sister and I both learned to play, too. Broadway musical hits were popular in our family, but “The Sound of Music” was undoubtedly the musical that generates so many memories:
One of the first movies I saw at the theater!
Mom singing My Favorite Things to me when I was little and crying.
Hearing the songs over and over again from our stereo or being played on the piano.
Our family watching the movie annually together once it was out on TV.
For Mom’s 70th birthday, I rewrote the lyrics to So Long, Farewell, and her six grandkids performed it in a skit that had everyone cracking up.
Music isn’t a cure, but can be a sweet relief from the fears that come with Alzheimer’s. I created this video to the tune of “Raindrops on Roses” hoping it will help Mom simply remember her favorite things.
I haven’t been on my computer nearly as much as I’d like lately. My eyes have been bothering me—a lot. More than an hour on the computer leaves me with headaches and blurry vision.
That said, I still make time to scan my morning newsletters, and last week one led me to a book that instantly spoke to me: Joyspan by Dr. Kerry Burnight. It was featured in an article titled Anti-Aging Is Overrated. Joy Is the Real Fountain of Youth.
The article also linked to this podcast episode, which I immediately listened to. And wow—Joyspan! Kerry described the exact ideas I’ve been living and reflecting on since I retired.
The 4 Keys to Improving Joyspan
Since retiring (and devouring every happiness self-help book I can get my hands on), I’ve often said that the four things I try to do every day are:
Learn
Socialize
Give
Exercise
Kerry shares four keys to joy that look awfully familiar:
Grow
Connect
Give
Adapt
Pretty similar, right? The first three line up almost exactly. The difference is that Kerry lists Adapt instead of Exercise. But honestly, I think exercise is one of the best ways to adapt! Movement helps us adjust to aging bodies and shifting circumstances.
And if there’s one thing I’ve gotten good at—both in retirement and in my work as an Agile coach—it’s adapting. Adapting means embracing change, letting go of rigidity, and finding new ways to do the things we love.
Finding Joy in the Midst of Challenge
Listening to Kerry on different podcasts this week, I especially connected with her stories of resilience. She emphasizes how mindset shapes our aging journey—accepting limitations without giving up joy.
One story really struck me: Kerry described how a friend with Alzheimer’s was still able to offer her meaningful advice. It’s such a reminder that no matter our age or abilities, we all have something valuable to give.
That resonates deeply with my own experience. I’ve written often about my mom and her journey with dementia. People sometimes tell me how thoughtful I am to call her every night. But honestly, I benefit just as much—maybe even more—from those visits. Through our calls, we share laughter, comfort, and love. And together, we’re living all four Joyspan keys: growing, connecting, giving, and adapting.
Combining Agile Practices with Joyspan
For years, I’ve thought about writing another book on applying Agile principles to retirement. But with my eye issues, projects that involve heavy reading and writing have taken a back seat.
Reading Joyspan has given me the nudge I needed to get going again. Yes, my eyes are a challenge—but there are tools and workarounds: audiobooks, Kindle accessibility settings, dictation software, and yes, even ChatGPT for copyediting. I can make adjustments to keep doing what I love, while also staying hopeful that my doctors will help me find long-term solutions.
And when I compare my situation to what so many others are facing, I realize how fortunate I am. Kerry herself has dealt with major eye issues. My dear friend Craig, who passed from ALS in 2010, and my mother, who is navigating Alzheimer’s, have both taught me by example that joy is possible even in the face of profound challenges.
When I was younger, I remember thinking that ALS and Alzheimer’s were the worst diseases imaginable and prayed no one I loved would ever have to endure them. Life had other plans. And yet, walking alongside Craig and my mom has been an unexpected gift—teaching me about grace, resilience, and the unshakable possibility of joy.
Last year, I wrote a post called Learning in Retirement — because “learning” was my “theme” for 2023. At the time, I was just starting to explore what it means to stay mentally active and curious as we age. I was dabbling in Spanish, taking online classes, and testing out all kinds of apps and ideas to keep my brain sharp.
That curiosity hasn’t gone away. I’ve become obsessed with neuroplasticity and how beneficial learning is for brain health! I’m so excited to find classes and people who inspire me with the way they’re embracing this chapter of life.
One of those people is Ken Cross, who joined me on the latest episode of the Carpe Diem Connections podcast to talk about transitions, healthy aging, and lifelong learning. Ken is a longtime educator and active participant in one of the many lifelong learning institutes (LLIs) across the U.S. — and he was kind enough to share a bunch of resources and insights for anyone who’s wondering how to keep learning and growing after retirement.
I’ll admit — I hadn’t heard of LLIs until recently. But they’ve been around for decades! In fact, the first program started at The New School in New York back in the 1960s. Today, there are nearly 400 lifelong learning programs around the country — many of them affiliated with universities and colleges.
These aren’t for-credit classes and there are no grades (thankfully!). Instead, they’re designed for people like us — folks who are in or near retirement but still want to engage their brains, meet others, and explore new ideas.
Spotlight on OLLI (Osher Lifelong Learning Institutes)
About 120 of these programs are part of the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute (OLLI) network — founded with support from the Bernard Osher Foundation. Each OLLI is different, but they share a mission: to offer learning opportunities to people aged 50+ who want to stay mentally and socially active.
The programs range from arts and literature to science, technology, and current events — with no pressure or prerequisites.
Want to see what’s available near you? The OLLI National Resource Center at Northwestern University puts out a comprehensive Lifelong Learning Institute Directory — and the August 2024 version is hot off the presses.
Lifelong Learning in Colorado
I had to peek at what’s available here in Colorado, of course! According to the directory, we have eight programs, located in:
Colorado Springs (2)
Denver (1)
Fort Collins (2)
Grand Junction (1)
Grand Valley (1)
Longmont (1)
I’m especially interested in checking out the options in Denver and Longmont — and maybe roping a friend into going with me. (If you’re local and curious, hit me up!)
Why It Matters
When I talked to Ken, what stood out most was how personal lifelong learning can be. It’s not just about taking classes — it’s about staying open to life. Staying curious. Making new connections. Exploring old passions or completely new topics just because… well, why not?
I’ve always loved learning — but I used to associate it with school, degrees, or work. Now I’m seeing it differently. Learning in retirement isn’t about career growth or checking boxes. It’s about enjoying the process, keeping your mind flexible, and continuing to grow into the person you’re still becoming.
As Ken said, “My life is an open book at this stage.” That openness — to share, to reflect, to learn — is what makes this chapter so powerful.
Let’s Keep Learning
If you’ve been curious about lifelong learning (or just want to know what kinds of programs are out there), definitely give this week’s podcast a listen. Ken brings so much heart and wisdom to the conversation — and the resources he shared are too good to keep to myself.
If you’ve taken part in a lifelong learning program, I’d love to hear your experience. And if you’re just starting to think about it, let’s explore together. Retirement is far from the end of the learning journey — in fact, for me, it’s the most fun part yet.
For the past several months, my life (and most of my blog posts) have been about my Mom and her journey with dementia due to Alzheimer’s. While everyone’s journey and progression is going to be different, there is so much I’m learning, both about the disease, and about myself.
I don’t want to minimize the pain of this cruel disease. I know it’s heart-breaking. But, honestly, I feel closer to my mother than I ever have in my adult life.
While I still have fears about the future, here are some of the unexpected sweet memories I’ll carry with me about this time:
She still lights up when she sees me
“People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel”
~Maya Angelou
I call Mom every day and I’m usually able to step her through getting on FaceTime so that we can see each other’s faces.
I’m always amazed at how much this act of seeing my face on the phone serves to excite her! She’s excited about seeing me in person, too, but she just really loves it that she can see me so clearly on the phone. “It’s like you’re right here in the room with me!” she’ll say.
I think a lot of this excitement is that we have the technology to do this and that she’s actually using it!
Screenshot of a call with Mom 7-20-25 – Her smile says it all!
But whether we sing a song together (something she loves to do) or I tell her about my day (sometimes multiple times) or I remind her of a family story, she absolutely loves our visits.
If I tell her a story that makes her laugh, I can share it again tomorrow — and she’ll laugh just as hard, as if hearing it for the first time.
Living in the moment – Truly!
Happiness self-help books tell us to “live in the moment” and not ruminate about things we can’t change. When you can’t remember much, you really can’t help but to “live in the moment.”
I know that it can be frustrating for Mom to have a feeling of fear or sadness and not really remember the origination of that feeling.
It’s been difficult to navigate her grief over people who have died. She doesn’t remember their deaths. When she asks about people who have died, I gently remind her, telling her how much she loved them and how comforted they were by her at the end of their lives.
When she says she can’t remember their actual deaths, I say something like, “I think our minds don’t want us to use up space with sad, painful memories. But let’s talk about the happy memories.”
Then I’ll tell her one of those memories that I know makes her smile, and she’ll soon forget her sadness.
I’ve seen how prolonged grief can be all-consuming on those of us with full memory. In some ways, I think my mom is spared that burden. Her mind gently shields her from the sharp edges of loss.
Letting her be the mother
I learned a lot by taking a class through CareBlazers about how family members can best care for someone with dementia.
In the month before moving Mom and Philip to a Senior Facility, I lived with them to help care for them. Even though there were times I needed to help or get Mom to do things she didn’t want to do, I was careful to not treat her as though I were the mother and she was the child.
She responded best when I would ask for her help. For example, I asked to borrow her blowdryer and my Dad’s old bathrobe. (He’d died in 2010, but she’d kept his huge bathrobe.) After I took a bath, she was so pleased to see me cozy in his oversized bathrobe. She came over to give me a big hug, knowing she’d provided not just hospitality, but a way for me to reconnect with my father, through his robe.
I still use every chance I can to remind Mom how much I respect and admire her. I admire her humor, her resilience, and her strength. When I tell her this on a FaceTime call, I see her face visibly fill with pride. She often will get tears in her eyes and say something like, “Oh, Yvette, that means so much to me. I love you so much.”
There’s More!
As I’m writing this, I keep thinking of more I’d like to say, but this post is getting long, so I’ll wait for a “Part 2.”
For now, I’ll end in saying that experiencing these calls and visits with Mom, while not always easy, have been so very rewarding.
The Party’s Over… But the Mission Continues
Our Longest Day Party may be over, and I’m thrilled to share that I’ve already exceeded my fundraising goal — thank you to everyone who donated or supported the cause
Even though the event has passed, the Alzheimer’s Association continues its vital work every day — and donations are always welcome.
Episode of Simpsons with robotic seals – My grandchildren shared this episode with me when I told them the story of their Great Grandmother’s new robotic cat.
Robotics and AI have really taken off in the past couple of years. I’m recognizing how much these advances in technology can help people with dementia. One of the sweetest surprises has been how much joy a robotic cat has brought my mom—and not just to her, but to many residents at her senior living community.
Mom, with her new robotic cat, Joy, sitting with her friend, Maggie
A robotic pet was first recommended to me by the Alzheimer’s Association. I was very worried about how Mom would cope with the loss of her (second) partner. Being a nurse, wonderful mother, and animal lover, Mom’s purpose has always been about taking care of others. The woman I spoke to said a robotic pet may help bring her some comfort.
Not a Great First Impression
I was skeptical, but I thought it couldn’t hurt to buy her a robo-cat. When I saw the company that put out these robotic pets was called “Joy for All,” I thought it might be some supernatural sign. Mom’s partner’s last name was “Joy.”
Originally, Mom had the reaction I’d expected. “I’m not so far gone that I don’t know the difference between a real cat and a toy!” she said. And then she added, “but it was a very nice gesture,” not wanting to hurt my feelings.
I told her I wasn’t trying to fool her. It’s just that it was a pretty cool “toy.” If she didn’t want it, though, I could send him back.
Robotic Cat is a Hit with Community
We brought the robotic cat down to dinner with us and everyone at the table loved it! It got so much attention that Mom started to rethink her position. She saw there was value in this “toy” after all!
Robotic cat, Joy, is a big hit with the residents
By the end of the next day, Mom not only decided to keep “Joy,” but I sent robotic cats to two of her friends who had become enamored with the cute futuristic pet.
So Many Benefits, So Much Joy
The robotic cat could purr, meow (or be put in silent mode), roll-over for a tummy scratch, and “pseudo-lick” its paws. Mom and her friends marveled at how easy it was to get the same kind of comfort and attachment you’d feel from a live cat, without any of the problems. “We should buy stock in the company that puts this out!” declared Mom.
Joy rolling over for a tummy-scratch
We talked about all the benefits of a robotic pet:
No need to feed them
No need to clean their poop
No worries about shedding
No worries they’ll run out when you’re not looking
No expensive visits to the vet
and the best thing, I reminded Mom, “you never have to worry about them getting sick or dying!”
Mom quickly replied: “We just better make sure I have plenty of batteries!”
Two Months Later
Over two months have passed since I gave Mom the robotic cat. She often talks about how much she enjoys him, often adding something like, “I don’t care who thinks its silly.”
I tell her, “No one thinks its silly, Mom. I’m glad you like him!”
This experience has made me reflect on what it means to feel connected—even to something inanimate. If it brings comfort, calm, or a sense of companionship, that’s real. That’s valuable.
I may just have to get one of those robotic cats for myself.
The Party’s Over… But the Mission Continues
Our Longest Day Party may be over, and I’m thrilled to share that I’ve already exceeded my fundraising goal — thank you to everyone who donated or supported the cause! 💜
Even though the event has passed, the Alzheimer’s Association continues its vital work every day — and donations are always welcome.
