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<h2>Why Families With Early-Onset Alzheimer’s Keep Falling Through (the GAP)</h2>When you’re handed an Early-Onset Alzheimer’s diagnosis, you’d think the medical world would rally like a pit crew at the Indy 500 — fast, coordinated, everyone knowing their lane.Instead, what you get looks more like the DMV on a Friday afternoon. Long waits. Conflicting directions. Nobody talking to each other.It’s not a system. It’s a canyon — wide, jagged, and deeply fragmented. And unless you’ve tried to navigate it with someone you love, you’d never know how easy it is to fall through.&nbsp; When the System Hands You Pamphlets When Tim was diagnosed, by Generations of Manchester, NH, we expected support.What we got was a stack of glossy pamphlets about “preparing for decline.” No roadmap. No coordination. No mention of treatments, trials, or lifestyle interventions that could slow the disease.It was essentially a death sentence in brochure form.And while families like ours are left with nothing but paper, the Alzheimer’s Association has raised hundreds of millions. Their answer when we asked for help to develop MiM? “There’s no money.”No money? Then what are all those millions for? Purple balloon galas? Branded walks? Because they’re clearly not making their way into the hands of families who need them most.That’s not care. That’s abandonment. And it’s happening every day.&nbsp; The Specialists Shuffle You’ve got the neurologist who orders tests but doesn’t address daily living. The primary care doc who shrugs because “this is out of my lane.” The psychiatrist who treats symptoms in isolation. And the insurance company who’d rather wrestle a porcupine than approve a PET scan.None of them are coordinated. It’s whack-a-mole medicine, and the mole is you.&nbsp; The Doors Inside the Canyon The cruel part? Families do find “doors” inside this canyon. But most are locked, mislabeled, or slam shut just as you reach them.The Insurance Door Under 65? Too young for Medicare. You fight private insurance for every test and trial. Over 65? Medicare exists, but it’s only half-open — some scans, some drugs, endless denials. The Clinical Trials Door Younger patients? Too rare. Older patients? Too late. Tim is 74. At 75, some studies won’t even let him in. The Care Ecosystem Door Too young? “Sorry, you’re not a senior yet.” Old enough? “Sure, we have programs — but they’re built for later-stage decline, not for someone who still writes, golfs, and lives with rhythm.” It’s the sick joke of Alzheimer’s care: 👉 Too young for the rocking chair. Too old for the cutting edge.&nbsp; The Cost of Fragmentation This canyon doesn’t just waste time — it costs families years of clarity they could have had. They bounce between specialists like ping-pong balls, burning through savings, patience, and hope.Meanwhile, innovation exists — AI, digital health, even blockchain for transparency. But the ecosystem is too fractured to scale it. So families are left standing at the edge, watching doors slam shut, with nowhere to turn.&nbsp; Why MiM Exists That’s why we built Memory in Motion (MiM).Not another app. A side entrance. A lifeline.MiM doesn’t care if you’re 55 or 75. It’s not about waiting for the “right door” to open. It’s about building a bridge across the canyon — with daily rhythms, reminders, anchors of identity, and connection that restores dignity.Because until medicine learns to speak with one voice — and until organizations stop hoarding millions while handing out pamphlets — it’s the patients who pay the price for the silence&nbsp; A Clarion Call We can’t wait for perfect systems or polished protocols. We need real support, built with and for the people living this journey now.That’s what MiM is — and that’s why we’re asking you to add your voice. Whether you’re a Traveler, a Supporter, an Advocate, or an Investor, your registration shows that this work matters.<a data-mce-href="https://livewithmim.org/register" href="https://livewithmim.org/register" target="_blank" rel="noopener">👉 Register here at livewithmim.org</a>Because Alzheimer’s shouldn’t mean silence, shame, or waiting.

The Canyon

<figure id="figure-z92f9w4gzvmehd3xe4"><img id="z92f9w4gzvmehd3xe4" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/33ygmhfCGvRrfCwHBYN5gcXVGHS9SsYjxSQlKpDfDLkVJpw6mjQ6vey0pDX7pM7n.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-2xl md:rounded-3xl lg:rounded-4xl" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 95% 25%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="95%" data-positiony="25%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/33ygmhfCGvRrfCwHBYN5gcXVGHS9SsYjxSQlKpDfDLkVJpw6mjQ6vey0pDX7pM7n.png" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 95% 25%;"></figure><h2>The Case of the Harvard Researcher Who Wasn’t</h2><h3>Today on As the Snake Oil Turns… A mysterious “Harvard researcher” has apparently uncovered the shocking cause of memory loss. Never mind that no one can tell us his name, his department, or what journal he published in.</h3>The plot thickens: “Memory loss isn’t a natural part of aging,” the ad says, “it’s the brain’s response to something specific we’ve been overlooking.”The shocking villain? Not amyloid plaques. Not lifestyle risk factors. Not decades of NIH-backed research. No, friends — our villain turns out to be… turmeric tea. Suspiciously priced at $49.99 a month, conveniently available if you click below.<figure id="figure-8fmv9bq85lmehd2zik"><img id="8fmv9bq85lmehd2zik" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/5wEvJDI2lFm3tciQ6fZbqJH0r3eGKxv5eryGaZDfZMpFLcDYe35qIyppX9tNCYGw.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-2xl md:rounded-3xl lg:rounded-4xl" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 5%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="50%" data-positiony="5%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/5wEvJDI2lFm3tciQ6fZbqJH0r3eGKxv5eryGaZDfZMpFLcDYe35qIyppX9tNCYGw.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 5%;"></figure>And the cliffhanger: Will this unnamed Harvard hero save us from ourselves? Or will another Facebook ad convince your uncle to stockpile brain pills between his Bitcoin wallet and his Franklin Mint commemorative coins?<h3>👉 Stay tuned for Episode 2: “The Miracle Berry That Big Pharma Doesn’t Want You to Know About.”</h3>&nbsp; 📌 Why I Write This As the Snake Oil Turns isn’t just for laughs. These hope-killing ads prey on fear — and on families like mine. When my husband was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, we were buried in “miracle” cures, powders, and empty promises.That’s why I’m building MiM (Memory in Motion). No snake oil, no $49.99 turmeric tea. Just structure, dignity, and tools that actually help people live better with early Alzheimer’s.Because real support means helping someone be more themselves, not less.

🎭 As the Snake Oil Turns: Episode 1

Everyone’s buzzing about lithium right now — not the EV battery kind, the brain-health kind. But before we all run to the supplement aisle, the smarter move might just be to run to the kitchen.Dr. Ellen Kornmehl, MD (with a name like Kornmehl she could’ve opened a bakery!) ties science straight back to food in her latest Substack: 👉<a data-mce-href="https://eatingandfeeding.substack.com/p/does-your-zip-code-determine-your?r=4sessy&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=email&amp;triedRedirect=true" href="https://eatingandfeeding.substack.com/p/does-your-zip-code-determine-your?r=4sessy&amp;utm_campaign=post&amp;utm_medium=email&amp;triedRedirect=true"> Does Your Zip Code Determine Your Dementia Risk?</a>And she doesn’t just end with lab notes — she ends with recipes: 🥘 Portuguese Garlic Shrimp with Kale 🍅 Greek Bruschetta 🍊 Fennel, Orange, Onion, Cucumber + Olive Salad 🥦 Melty, Creamy Tahini + Garlic CauliflowerHere’s the kicker: food is a large part of the MiM app we’re building. Because memory support isn’t just pills and protocols — it’s structure, dignity, and yes, a plate of shrimp with kale.<figure id="figure-msib2h6i4gmefsqq48"><img id="msib2h6i4gmefsqq48" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/36JXAnniPiMpTXfKIlNIlWYh4wxYsAVaJGkPWAGmFxgY4vOZKFrMcC5JdduX3DtR.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 3/2; object-position: center center;" data-corners="small" data-aspect="3:2" data-caption="Part of the MiM App's weekly menu plan" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/36JXAnniPiMpTXfKIlNIlWYh4wxYsAVaJGkPWAGmFxgY4vOZKFrMcC5JdduX3DtR.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 3/2; object-position: center center;"><figcaption class="body-normal text-gray-500 mt-2">Part of the MiM App's weekly menu plan</figcaption></figure>👉 I also wrote about this on my Substack - Connect with MiM:<a data-mce-href="https://mimconnect.substack.com/p/does-your-zip-code-shape-your-brain?r=4sessy" href="https://mimconnect.substack.com/p/does-your-zip-code-shape-your-brain?r=4sessy" target="_blank" rel="noopener"> Does Your Zip Code Shape Your Brain Health?</a>And if you want more recipes, science, and a first look at how we’re baking this into Memory in Motion (MiM), sign up as a Trailblazer tester. We’d love to have you at the table. Please register on the main site and we will be in touch.&nbsp;

✨ Lithium, Kale, and Memory on a Plate ✨

We joke about it — the wrong side of the bed. But the little things that start our day can ripple out fast. A stumble in the morning can feel like a storm by lunchtime.That’s why I built MiM (Memory in Motion). Not to cure, not to over-monitor, but to steady the rhythm of life.MiM weaves in what matters most: cooking, music, movement, dog walks, journaling. And yes, it also asks a simple daily check-in: “How are you feeling right now?” That small step is just one part of keeping the day from tipping.Here’s what excites me. Researchers at Dartmouth are building tools like MoodCapture, using AI and phone data to detect changes in mood. Their principle? Catch shifts early, act in the moment, reduce the impact.Different methods, same truth. For me, that’s validation. MiM may have been born at my kitchen table, but science shows we’re onto something real.I can’t help but feel the jigsaw pieces are falling into place — or maybe the stars are aligning. And as Dr. Nicholas Jacobson at Dartmouth says: being in the moment makes the impact less profound.Contact Vanessa: <a href="mailto:vanessa@livewithmim.org">vanessa@livewithmim.org</a>"Built to Remember. Designed to Care."

What Side of the Bed Did You Get Out of Today?

<h2>Four Months In...</h2><figure id="figure-f8nijacgsmea5dz7h"><img id="f8nijacgsmea5dz7h" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/284HBF7pR6TW8426v7fbJIR9wK9y5od2O5VNRx7fnEeyvbKPQPR5oZqEogkOzWNP.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-2xl md:rounded-3xl lg:rounded-4xl" style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: 50% 20%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="1:1" data-caption="" data-positionX="50%" data-positionY="20%" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure>Four months ago, I launched LiveWithMiM.org with a simple but defiant goal: to bridge the canyon-sized gap between “You have Alzheimer’s” and “Here’s how you keep living well.”That gap isn’t just about missing resources — it’s about silence. The stigma surrounding Alzheimer’s is so thick you can feel the air change when you say the word. People look away. Voices drop. The conversation ends before it begins — and more often than not, the pity party begins.Infantilizing language creeps in — baby talk, sing-song tones — or worse, nothing at all. It’s dehumanizing. It’s akin to how AIDS was perceived in the 1980s, or the awkward whose-side-are-you-on dynamics of a divorce. In every case, people’s discomfort overrides their humanity.I refuse to accept that.&nbsp; What We’ve Built in 4 Months In just four months, MiM has:Is about to meet with one of the top doctors in the field, Dr. Lisa Marsch at Dartmouth, to discuss real-world applications and pilots. Talked at length with Emily Snyder of the Borealis Investment Fund, a dynamic New Hampshire leader who is helping guide MiM’s financial positioning for investors. Gained mentorship from SBA and NHU’s John-Willem Clemente, who even ran our business plan through MIT’s Orbit program — and the feedback was clear: We have the chops. Now to make it happen. Benefited from the generosity and expertise of the attorneys at McLane.com, without whom MiM would still be just an idea instead of Out There, for the Now. Attracted a growing following of top scientists, researchers, and changemakers who share our urgency to shift the Alzheimer’s conversation. This momentum tells me something important — the world is ready to talk about Alzheimer’s differently.&nbsp; The Stigma Stops Here Stigma isolates. It keeps families in the dark, ashamed, and unsupported when what they need is connection, guidance, and hope. MiM exists to replace that stigma with structure, dignity, and daily life that still feels worth living.&nbsp; Strengthening Our Resolve Every conversation, every pilot, every new connection strengthens my resolve: Alzheimer’s is not the end of the story. We can give people more than a diagnosis and a handshake. We can give them tools, routines, and a reason to keep going.&nbsp; We’ve come far in four months. The next four will take us further still. If you share this vision — to lessen the stigma and strengthen the resolve — let’s talk.

Bridging the Gap in the Canyon

By Tim When Vanessa first floated the idea of a “structured daily routine,” I pictured a military barracks. Wake up at 0600. Shine boots. Salute somebody. Instead, I got MiM. Which, to be clear, does not require me to salute anyone, but does expect me to put on pants before lunch.<figure id="figure-7m8vp3fnme31bh7e"><img id="7m8vp3fnme31bh7e" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/16BBtLge5HDL6EXDusWxrZkaC0Egn5tGn682JJxTFp1ud61GSirIMs7VUuIEhekg.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-2xl md:rounded-3xl lg:rounded-4xl" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionX="undefined" data-positionY="undefined" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure>MiM gives me a list every morning. Hydration, writing, yoga, walking the dog. It’s a polite but persistent nudge — like having a personal assistant who never rolls their eyes. I’ll admit, at first I treated it like spam. “Oh look, my wife’s app thinks I should drink water. Adorable.”But here’s the twist: it works.The more I follow the routine, the less my day unravels. Writing, for example. I’d stopped for a while — too many mental cobwebs. Now, with MiM reminding me daily, I’m back at it. Some days I’m brilliant. Other days I produce what can only be described as “words in a row.” But either way, the muscle is moving again.The best part? I can see my progress. It’s right there in the little check marks and logged moments. I didn’t think I’d care, but apparently my brain likes gold stars as much as it likes coffee.I still grumble when the yoga reminder pops up, because no app should expect a man my age to touch his toes without incident. But I do it. And then I feel better. And then I hate to admit that I feel better.So here’s my official statement: MiM is helping. The structure, the research, the small daily wins — they’re stitching my days together in a way that makes sense. I may never salute Vanessa, but I will, grudgingly, thank her.And I hope it works for you too, but maybe, just maybe, you’d like to help? We’re looking for a few more Trailblazers to join in the research. It’s fun, it’s informative, and with any luck, it’ll help a whole ton of people down the line.

Routine, Schmoutine — Turns Out It Works

Memory In Motion