Two Tests. One Blood Sample. Two Different Stories.
VS
In an article published November 12, 2026, titled When Two Alzheimer’s Blood Tests Disagree, John Dwyer explores a challenge emerging as blood-based Alzheimer’s testing becomes increasingly accessible in primary care.
Consider a patient experiencing memory difficulties. Her physician orders blood tests looking for biological indicators associated with Alzheimer’s disease.
The results arrive.
One biomarker, the amyloid-beta 42/40 ratio, is abnormal.
Another, phosphorylated tau 217 (p-tau217), is within the normal range.
Two measurements from the same blood sample. Different findings.
Now what?
For the clinician, the question concerns interpretation, diagnostic accuracy and appropriate follow-up.
For the patient, the questions may be considerably more immediate.
Do I have Alzheimer’s?
Will I lose my independence?
Should I tell my family?
What happens to the life I’ve spent decades building?
These are not questions that can be answered by a laboratory report alone.
And that distinction matters.
Earlier Detection Is Progress. Uncertainty Is Still a Reality.
The development of blood-based biomarkers represents a remarkable advance in Alzheimer’s research.
For years, confirming the biological changes associated with Alzheimer’s disease often required specialized investigations, including amyloid PET imaging or examination of cerebrospinal fluid.
Blood tests offer the possibility of making parts of that assessment more accessible.
That is significant progress.
But detecting a biological signal is not the same as delivering a complete diagnosis, predicting precisely how someone’s condition will progress, or determining what their daily life will look like.
Different biomarkers measure different aspects of Alzheimer’s-related biology. Results can be influenced by the particular assay, clinical context and stage of disease.
An abnormal result does not automatically establish an Alzheimer’s diagnosis. Nor does a normal result necessarily settle every clinical question.
When results are discordant, clinicians may need additional assessments, confirmatory testing or specialist input.
John Dwyer’s article makes the case for clearer, evidence-based guidance so clinicians can interpret conflicting findings and determine appropriate next steps.
It is an important argument.
But I believe there is another question that deserves equal attention.
What happens to the person while those next steps are being determined?
The Waiting Room Extends Far Beyond the Doctor’s Office
We tend to think of medical uncertainty as something that happens in hospitals, consulting rooms and laboratories.
It doesn’t.
It follows people home.
It sits at the breakfast table when someone cannot remember why they entered the kitchen.
It appears in the hesitation before making a familiar journey.
It surfaces when a spouse quietly begins checking whether an appointment has been remembered, or whether medication has been taken.
Sometimes these experiences have nothing to do with Alzheimer’s disease. Memory changes can have numerous causes, including some that are treatable.
That is precisely why appropriate medical assessment matters.
But whatever the eventual explanation, the practical challenges someone is experiencing today do not disappear simply because a diagnosis remains uncertain.
The appointment still needs to be remembered.
The familiar routine still needs to be followed.
The birthday still deserves to be celebrated.
The person still has relationships, responsibilities, ambitions and a life that belongs to them.
Life does not wait for medical certainty.
And neither should compassionate, practical support.
We Have Become Very Good at Measuring. Are We Equally Good at Supporting?
Healthcare innovation is understandably fascinated by measurement.
We measure biomarkers, cognitive performance, imaging findings and risk.
We develop increasingly sophisticated ways of identifying changes that previous generations of clinicians could scarcely have imagined detecting.
These advances deserve recognition.
But there is a danger in allowing the measurement to become the entire conversation.
A person is not an amyloid ratio.
They are not a tau concentration.
They are not a score on a cognitive assessment.
They are the sum of their experiences, relationships, habits, preferences and memories.
They are someone who may have spent forty years preparing Sunday lunch for their family, who knows every word of an old song, or who still insists on doing the crossword before breakfast.
And when cognitive difficulties begin to interfere with everyday life, preserving those familiar connections can become extraordinarily important.
Not because technology can reverse an underlying disease.
Not because an app can replace clinical care.
But because maintaining independence, confidence and a sense of identity matters, regardless of what a laboratory report eventually reveals.
Where Memory in Motion Fits Into This Conversation
Memory in Motion, or MiM, is being developed around a deceptively simple belief:
People deserve support in living their lives, not merely assistance in managing their limitations.
MiM is not a diagnostic tool.
It does not interpret Alzheimer’s biomarkers, determine whether someone has dementia or replace the judgment of qualified healthcare professionals.
Its purpose is different.
We are developing a technology platform intended to help people experiencing memory and cognitive challenges remain connected to the routines, relationships and personal information that give their days structure and meaning.
That means thinking about technology from the perspective of the person using it.
Not simply asking what the system can record, calculate or retrieve.
But asking whether it can make an ordinary day a little easier to navigate.
Can it help someone reconnect with a familiar routine?
Can it make important personal information easier to access?
Can it support independence without making someone feel constantly monitored or diminished?
Can it help families offer support while respecting the individuality of the person they love?
These are the questions shaping MiM’s development.
They are design ambitions, not claims of clinically demonstrated outcomes. The technology must ultimately be evaluated against the needs and experiences of the people it is intended to serve.
But the philosophy is fundamental.
The individual must remain at the center of the technology, rather than becoming an accessory to it.
A Diagnosis Is Not the Beginning of a Person’s Story
One of the difficulties in discussing Alzheimer’s disease is that we so often begin the conversation at diagnosis.
Before diagnosis, there may be months or years of uncertainty.
After diagnosis, there may be many years of meaningful living.
And throughout that journey, the person remains a person.
Someone who may still enjoy a walk by the water, recognize a beloved voice, laugh at a terrible joke or find comfort in the familiar.
The challenge is not simply to identify disease earlier.
It is to consider how earlier identification can be accompanied by better communication, appropriate clinical care, practical support and respect for personal autonomy.
We should be careful not to promise that technology can solve every difficulty.
It cannot.
But neither should we underestimate the value of helping someone navigate the ordinary moments that make up a life.
The Next Frontier Must Be Human as Well as Scientific
John Dwyer’s article highlights an important emerging challenge: when sophisticated diagnostic tools produce conflicting findings, clinicians need clear guidance about how to interpret them.
I would add something to that conversation.
Patients and families need clarity about what happens next, too.
They need understandable explanations.
They need appropriate follow-up.
They need reassurance that uncertainty is not the same as abandonment.
And when cognitive challenges affect everyday living, they need access to practical support that does not depend entirely on having a definitive diagnostic label.
We should continue investing in the science of early detection. Absolutely.
But we must also invest our imagination, research and ingenuity in the lives unfolding alongside that science.
Because while medicine works toward more definitive answers, people are still living.
They are still making plans.
They are still loving their families.
They are still themselves.
The future of Alzheimer’s care should not be measured solely by how early we can identify the disease, but also by how well we help people live throughout the journey.
That is the future Memory in Motion hopes to help build.
And it is a future worth pursuing.
Further Reading
John Dwyer, “When Two Alzheimer’s Blood Tests Disagree”
Solving Alzheimer’s, November 12, 2026.
About Memory in Motion
Memory in Motion (MiM) is an emerging technology initiative focused on supporting people experiencing memory and cognitive challenges through thoughtful, person-centered digital tools.
Our mission is to help preserve independence, connection and dignity in everyday life.
Discover more at LiveWithMiM.org.
Memory in Motion. Because every life is more than a diagnosis.