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<p>I got one of those “important documents” emails today.</p><p>Sender looked harmless enough: a normal Gmail address, normal name, nothing obviously weird. And that’s exactly why these scams work.</p><figure id="figure-cl074l2zsgmlk1bkpx"><img id="cl074l2zsgmlk1bkpx" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/1aR5GsoaNuxiyqk93h7mdtoxJGITZlUTHZiLKUKEe34mI8gRuocMBwe67SYH62Vq.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-2xl md:rounded-3xl lg:rounded-4xl" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 20% 5%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="20%" data-positiony="5%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/1aR5GsoaNuxiyqk93h7mdtoxJGITZlUTHZiLKUKEe34mI8gRuocMBwe67SYH62Vq.png" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 20% 5%;"></figure><p>The message said: “Attachments were too large, so I resent them using Adobe Secured Upload. Click here to view securely.”</p><p><strong>Translation: please click this link so I can steal your login.</strong></p><p>A few things everyone should know, especially if you’re helping a parent, spouse, or anyone with even mild cognitive impairment:</p><p>A “normal” Gmail address does not mean it’s safe.<br>Scammers use Gmail because it slides past a lot of filters. Also, real Gmail accounts get hacked and used as bait.<br>“Adobe secured upload” is a favorite costume.<br>They borrow a trusted brand name to make you move fast and ask fewer questions.<br>The goal is not to trick “stupid” people.<br>The goal is to catch smart people on a tired day. Or distracted. Or stressed. Or caregiving. Or living with memory changes.<br>So here’s the rule in our house going forward:</p><p>✅ No surprise documents. <strong>Ever.</strong></p><p><br><strong>If I wasn’t expecting a document, I’m not clicking anything.</strong></p><p>If you get one of these, do this instead:</p><p>Do not click the link<br>Hover over it (or long-press on your phone) and look at the real web address<br>In Gmail: click the three dots → Report phishing → delete it<br>And if you’re not sure, use this sentence - It's ok to respond, just <strong>don't click the link.&nbsp;</strong><br>“I don’t open links from email. If this is real, tell me what it’s about and call me.”</p><p>Please share this, because the people most at risk are the ones least equipped to fight these pop-quiz scams. The internet should not be a daily cognitive stress test.</p><p>Cheers!<br>Vanessa</p><p>&nbsp;<br></p>

Phishing Is Designed to Beat the Brain on a Bad Day

<h3>I haven’t written a Spark blog since January 30th. It’s February 11th. So yes, radio silence. Not because life got quiet. Because it didn’t.</h3><h3>We went to Dartmouth for Tim’s PET scan. It came back positive for amyloids. There’s no clever way to dress that up. It’s a hard confirmation of what we’ve been living inside for a while now. Something is happening in his brain that we cannot negotiate with optimism and good intentions.</h3><h3>And yet, because this disease has a strange sense of timing, there were wins in the same week.</h3><h3>A phone upgrade that did more than upgrade a phone</h3><h3>Tim’s phone got upgraded from his ancient iPhone 8 to an iPhone 17, courtesy of Verizon. Something unexpected happened. His confidence came back online. Not in a motivational-poster way. In the practical, everyday way that matters most. Driving a little farther. Navigating with less stress. Adapting faster than either of us expected.</h3><h3>We’ve also discovered that “Hey Siri” is not a feature. It’s a confidence drill. I’m practicing patience because the goal isn’t to use voice commands. The goal is to keep Tim’s world bigger, not smaller, and to do it in a way that doesn’t turn him into a student in his own life.</h3><h3>A quieter loss, and another kind of technology</h3><h3>Just before Christmas, we lost someone who mattered deeply to me. He was my doctor, and the husband of my best friend from my homeland, Wales. In the way life insists on being both practical and cruel, the funeral in the UK wasn’t until January 23rd.</h3><h3>We didn’t fly to Wales, but we watched it online, in real time. Another strange wonder of modern technology.</h3><h3>It wasn’t the same as being there. But it was still a kind of presence. A reminder that connection doesn’t always require a plane ticket. Sometimes it requires a signal, a screen, and the willingness to show up anyway.</h3><h3>And I mention this because it’s the same principle behind MiM.</h3><h3>Who really struggles with the very idea of this app? Usually not the Traveler.</h3><h3>When I speak with spouses and partners of Travelers, I hear the same worry: “My person won’t be able to adapt to an app.”</h3><h3>But what I’m learning, again and again, is that the bigger friction often lives with the Supporter.</h3><h3>Not because Supporters aren’t capable. Because they’re overloaded. They’re carrying the calendar, the meds, the appointments, the household logistics, the emotional weather, and the quiet fear that if they miss one detail, everything tips. And on top of all that, they’re supposed to learn a new technology themselves, then somehow teach their Traveler to use it, while pretending they are not exhausted.</h3><h3>So MiM is not designed to be overwhelming. It is designed to be a crutch in the best sense of the word. A support system for both Travelers and Supporters. Gentle prompts. Clear routines. Reminders that reduce friction rather than add to it. A tool that helps keep life moving without making anyone feel managed.</h3><h3>MiM isn’t here to replace human care. It’s here to back it up, so the people doing the caring can breathe.</h3><h3>What comes next is not abstract. It has a name, a drive, and an appointment time.</h3><h3>We visited Justine in Concord, Tim’s Neurology Nurse Practitioner, and we’ll be back at Dartmouth soon to discuss the new infusion options.</h3><h3>That is the rhythm of this season. Test, result, regroup, decide. Medicine moving forward, families trying to keep pace, and every decision carrying both hope and logistics.</h3><h3>That conversation feels like standing at the edge of a new chapter. Medicine moving forward, families trying to keep pace, and every decision carrying both hope and logistics.</h3><h3>MiM is moving too.</h3><h3>With my scientific mentor's help, I’ve upgraded the MiM app to include the Brain Diet, no longer just the Mediterranean diet as a catch-all. It’s one more step toward making MiM what it’s meant to be: not a generic wellness app with pretty icons, but a real-world life system that supports people in the gap between diagnosis and daily living.</h3><h3>Here’s the honest truth. MiM has come as far as I can take it without help from someone who knows programming more than I do. I’m still bootstrapping all of this. Building with grit, late nights, and equal parts stubbornness and love.</h3><h3>And yes, people keep telling me I don’t have time.</h3><h3>They say it like they’re being sensible, like this is a hobby I should put down.</h3><h3>But if you’re living this, you already know. Families don’t get “time.” They get a diagnosis, a pile of brochures, and a system that assumes they’ll figure it out while juggling everything else.</h3><h3>So I’m making the time. On purpose. Because I want this app funded. Because I want MiM to exist in the real world, not just in my head and my notes app.</h3><h3>And honestly, writing is also a relief. It’s fun. It’s a diversion that gives my brain somewhere to put the pressure, somewhere useful. It turns chaos into narrative and fear into forward motion.</h3><h3>The Lipid Codex isn’t a side quest. It’s the engine.</h3><h3>The Lipid Codex is currently published on Substack as a series of Case Files. Each one is designed to pull the reader forward, step by step, toward the book itself. A medical thriller in the spirit of Michael Crichton and Dan Brown, fast, investigative, and slightly unnerving. Fiction based on reality.</h3><h3>The science is real. The characters are composites. The point is to take what’s happening behind the curtain and drag it back to the kitchen table, where families are trying to make decisions in real time.</h3><h3>That’s why the Case Files exist. That’s why they’re accessible right here on this site. See the link above.</h3><h3>And that’s why I’ve started hunting for a literary agent to bring The Lipid Codex into the world properly.</h3><h3>Maybe it finds a publisher. Maybe it makes it to the Times bestseller list. Maybe it doesn’t.</h3><h3>But I’m not writing it for applause. I’m writing it to build a bridge.</h3><h3>Because MiM, the real thing I’m building, needs oxygen. The right collaborators. The right developer support. And yes, the funding that turns “almost there” into “live.”</h3><h3>A bright spot: more people have signed up on the site as Advocates. That matters more than I can say. Advocacy is how projects like this stop being “a nice idea” and start becoming inevitable.</h3><h3>I’ve also been interviewed by Dr. Bruce Miller and Dr. Serggio Lanata at UCSF, and now I’m waiting for the news I’m hoping for. Waiting is its own kind of work. It looks passive. It isn’t. So while I wait, I build.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</h3><h3>Now the part where I’m going to be very direct, without making it weird.</h3><h3>If you know someone, anyone, who funds early-stage health-tech with a heart, angel investors, mission-driven donors, innovation grants, family offices, or quietly generous humans who still believe in building what should exist, I’d love an introduction.</h3><h3>Not because I’m begging.</h3><h3>Because I’m building.</h3><h3>And I’m at the stage where momentum needs oxygen.</h3><h3>MiM is bigger than me. It’s bigger than one family. It’s a bridge for people who are still here, still capable, still wanting dignity, while the world treats them like they’ve already disappeared.</h3><h3>We’re not disappearing.</h3><h3>We’re building.</h3><h3>Cheers!<br>Vanessa</h3><h2><strong>Quick Links</strong></h2><h3><strong>Read The Lipid Codex Case Files: <a data-mce-href="https://mimconnect.substack.com/s/the-lipid-codex" href="https://mimconnect.substack.com/s/the-lipid-codex">https://mimconnect.substack.com/s/the-lipid-codex</a></strong></h3><h3><strong>Become an Advocate: <a href="https://livewithmim.org/register" data-mce-href="https://livewithmim.org/register">https://livewithmim.org/register</a></strong><br><strong>Contact / Introductions: <a href="mailto:vanessa@livewithmim.org" data-mce-href="mailto:vanessa@livewithmim.org">vanessa@livwithmim.org</a></strong><br><br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;</h3><p><br>&nbsp;</p><p><br></p>

When the PET Scan Says “Yes” and Verizon Says “Upgrade”

Thanksgiving turkey dinner. Above view table scene on a rustic wood banner background.

<h3>MiM Is Switching to the MIND Diet</h3><figure id="figure-jb15jifunml1btux1"><img id="jb15jifunml1btux1" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/36AJ8eNlTtnjCNcLUhxfkGID0Y08SoH3GYp9RCch2afkXdkztqfO3a0JnV2oXuQH.png" 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><h3><br>MiM is not a weight-loss app with better branding.<br>It’s an operating system for daily life, built for brains that deserve clarity, not confusion.</h3><h3>While developing the MiM App over the past year, we used the Mediterranean diet as our foundation. For good reason.</h3><h3>It’s one of the most studied eating patterns in the world:</h3><h3>vegetables<br>fruit<br>whole grains<br>beans and nuts<br>fish<br>olive oil<br>fewer ultra-processed foods<br>It works.</h3><h3>But as MiM evolved, we needed something more specific to the brain.</h3><h3>That’s where MIND comes in.</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br>A Note on Why No Names Are Used<br>The person who suggested this shift asked not to be named.</h3><h3>He supports multiple patients at any given time who are navigating complex, hard-to-diagnose conditions and works alongside their medical teams. He keeps his guidance evidence-based and avoids publicly attaching his name to any specific diet or protocol.</h3><h3>That’s not evasive.<br>That’s ethical.</h3><h3>MiM follows the same principle: the focus stays on what helps the person, not who suggested it.</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br>What Is the MIND Diet?<br>MIND stands for:</h3><h3>Mediterranean–DASH Intervention for Neurodegenerative Delay</h3><h3>It combines:</h3><h3>The Mediterranean diet<br>the DASH diet<br>a clear focus on brain health<br>If you want the clinical overview and food lists, Mayo Clinic explains it clearly <a href="https://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lifestyle/healthy-aging/in-depth/brain-health-tips/art-20555198" data-mce-href="https://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lifestyle/healthy-aging/in-depth/brain-health-tips/art-20555198">HERE</a>:<br><br></h3><h3>MiM’s job is not to rewrite Mayo.</h3><h3>MiM’s job is to make this usable in daily life.</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br>Mediterranean vs MIND: What’s the Difference?<br>The Mediterranean Diet<br>Broad. Flexible. Forgiving.</h3><h3>Focuses on:</h3><h3>plant-forward meals<br>healthy fats<br>fish and seafood<br>moderation, not restriction<br>Strength: easy to sustain<br>Limitation: not brain-specific enough for MiM’s goals</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br>The MIND Diet<br>More targeted. More structured.</h3><h3>MIND:</h3><h3>prioritizes leafy greens and berries<br>sets clear weekly goals<br>is explicit about foods to limit<br>Strength: brain-first design<br>Limitation: can feel rule-heavy without guidance</h3><h3>This structure matters when cognitive energy is already under pressure.</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br>Why MiM Is Making the Switch<br>We’re not abandoning Mediterranean principles.</h3><h3>We’re refining them.</h3><h3>Mediterranean is the highway.<br>MIND is the route with fewer potholes when cognition is what you’re protecting.</h3><h3>MiM is built around routines, not willpower.<br>MIND fits that reality better.</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br>How to Start Without Overhauling Your Life<br>You don’t need a reset.<br>You need a few reliable defaults.</h3><h3>Start here:<br>1. Leafy greens, daily<br>Spinach, kale, arugula, romaine. Any form counts.</h3><h3>2. Berries, weekly<br>Fresh or frozen. Dessert works.</h3><h3>3. Demote, don’t ban<br>Butter-heavy meals, pastries, fried foods move from “default” to “sometimes.”</h3><h3>That’s it.</h3><h3>Consistency beats perfection.</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br>The MIND diet is public information.<br>Mayo is free.</h3><h3>What isn’t free is execution.</h3><h3>Most plans fail at the same moment:</h3><h3>decision fatigue</h3><h3>time pressure</h3><h3>low energy</h3><h3>too many competing responsibilities</h3><h3>People don’t stop because they don’t care.</h3><h3>They stop because they’re carrying too much.</h3><h3><strong>MiM Premium will include:</strong></h3><h3>weekly MIND-aligned recipes</h3><h3>done-for-you shopping lists</h3><h3>simple weekly rhythms</h3><h3>flexible swaps for low-energy days</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br>A Responsible Reminder<br>Diet is not medical advice.</h3><h3>If you’re also managing conditions like diabetes, kidney disease, cardiovascular issues, or taking medications that interact with diet, use your clinician as a guardrail.</h3><h3>MiM supports daily life.<br>It does not replace medical care.</h3>

Which Diet is Best for Your Mind?

Close-up macro science bubbles,Macro close up of soap bubbles look like scientific image of cell and cell membrane

<h3><strong>Three “Earliest” That People Confuse</strong> (and Families Pay For)</h3><figure id="figure-tlnpk75pwumky7cviy"><img id="tlnpk75pwumky7cviy" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/2bKEobhSFSU9Lw6PUgm2pDOfrOqyMxhboIbrALAHlPBsMFdxv3t0hXtKWNJrMGsO.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><h3>People keep saying “early Alzheimer’s” like it’s one thing.</h3><h3><strong>It’s not.</strong></h3><h3>It’s three different things wearing the same label, and that confusion is one of the reasons families get diagnosed… then sent home to live life not knowing what to do next.</h3><h3><strong>So here’s the clarifier, in plain English, without the medical fog machine.</strong></h3><h3>1) Early-onset is about age<br>Early-onset Alzheimer’s means symptoms begin before 65.</h3><h3>That’s it. It’s a calendar label, not a severity label.</h3><h3>Early-onset doesn’t automatically mean faster. It doesn’t automatically mean worse. It means “this showed up younger than expected.”</h3><h3><strong>2) Early-stage is about function</strong><br><strong>Early-stage Alzheimer’s is about what a person can still do.</strong></h3><h3>It means mild symptoms, still capable, still participating in life, still able to build routines, still able to make choices. Often still independent or semi-independent, especially with the right support.</h3><h3><strong>A person can be 74 and early-stage.</strong><br><strong>A person can be 58 and not.</strong></h3><h3>Stage is function, not birthday candles.</h3><h3><strong>3) Early biology is about what’s happening under the hood</strong><br><strong>This is where blood biomarkers and PET scans matter.</strong></h3><h3>They can show Alzheimer’s biology earlier than symptoms do. Not as a fortune teller. As a flashlight.</h3><h3>They don’t “predict your future.” They can reveal what is happening now, early enough for a clinician to discuss options, risk reduction, and (for some people) treatment pathways.</h3><h3>So yes: waiting for symptoms is how prevention time gets lost.</h3><h3>But here’s the part I’m building MiM around, because it’s the part families actually live:</h3><h3>The real gap is after diagnosis<br>Once someone gets diagnosed, the system is built for medicine.</h3><h3>It is not built for daily life.</h3><h3>You’ll get pamphlets, appointments, maybe a prescription, and a follow-up that feels like it was scheduled by a calendar that has never met a human being.</h3><h3>What you don’t get is a plan for everyday living.</h3><h3>MiM exists because that gap is where fear expands. It’s where families hover. It’s where the person living with changes starts to feel like a problem to be managed instead of a person to be supported.</h3><h3>MiM is the bridge between diagnosis and daily life.</h3><h3>Not medical care. Not a tracker. Not a patronizing reminder app.</h3><h3>A dignity-forward operating system for the early-stage window, when structure can still protect independence and dignity.</h3><h3>What MiM does (in real terms)<br>MiM gives Travelers simple Daily Prompts they can actually do and tap Done.<br>MiM gives Supporters a calm system to set the rhythm without turning the relationship into supervision.</h3><h3>It’s kitchen-table simple: movement, meals, meds prep, sleep, mood check-ins, moments that matter, and gentle coordination that reduces avoidable stress.</h3><h3><strong>Because “early” is not when symptoms become inconvenient.</strong></h3><h3><strong>Early is when biology is visible and function is still steerable.</strong></h3><h3><strong>That’s the window where we can keep life feeling like life.</strong></h3><h3>If you’re a Supporter reading this:<br>Ask the medical questions. Track what matters. Build structure early. Do not wait for crisis mode to become your default setting.</h3><h2>And if you want the bridge, not just the diagnosis:<br><strong>MiM is here.</strong></h2>

Early-Onset, Early-Stage, Early Biology

<h2>MiM Spark takeaway</h2><h3>The&nbsp;GUIDE letter is not a miracle. It’s not a scam either. It’s a new attempt at something the system has failed at for years: helping people with dementia and the people who love them stay safely at home, with actual support.</h3><h3>But here’s the part nobody tells you: the <strong>“front door” is the service.</strong><br>If the first five minutes feel cold, salesy, or slow… that’s not a glitch. That’s the product.</h3><h3><strong>Step One Was Not a Phone Call</strong><br>Before calling anyone, confirm what type of Medicare coverage you have, because GUIDE eligibility depends on the lane you’re in.</h3><h3>Look at your insurance card and verify whether you’re in:</h3><h3><strong>Original Medicare (Parts A and B),</strong> often paired with a <strong>Medicare Supplement (Medigap)</strong> like Plan F or Plan G<br>or<br><strong>Medicare Advantage</strong> (a private plan that replaces Original Medicare for how services are delivered)<br>This is not nitpicking. It’s avoiding the “wrong department” merry-go-round.</h3><h3>The letter arrives and you do what any reasonable person does<br>You read it. You exhale. You wonder whether “a new Medicare program” is help, hype, or a polite way of saying “good luck.”</h3><h3>Then you look at the provider list. In our case, it came down to two names.</h3><h3>So I did what Supporters do. I tested the doors.</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br><strong>Call #1: Ceresti</strong><br>I called Ceresti first.</h3><h3>I sat on hold for ten minutes before Katherine picked up. No last name. No corporate vibe. Just a real human voice that sounded like she understood that people calling about dementia are not calling for the fun of it.</h3><h3>She was exceptionally nice and gave me a clear next step:</h3><h3>“Watch the videos on our GUIDE site, then come back.”</h3><h3>Was it homework? Yes.<br>Did it still feel personal? Also yes.</h3><h3>And even if Ceresti isn’t the provider you end up choosing, their GUIDE site is genuinely helpful, especially the videos. It’s one of the clearest plain-English walkthroughs I’ve seen of what GUIDE is supposed to be.</h3><h3>(You already know the link because I’m not shy about repeating useful things.)</h3><h3>MiM Spark note: This matters. In dementia support, clarity is a form of care.</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br><strong>Call #2: Tembo</strong><br>Then I tried Tembo.</h3><h3>Their “screening call” link took me straight to a scheduling calendar. No conversation. No triage. Just a polished funnel that says “Match for Free!” like I’m shopping for a couch, not trying to build a support plan for a human being.</h3><h3>And the calendar? <strong>No availability until January 6th.</strong></h3><h3>That’s a week away.</h3><h3>In the world of dementia, a week is not a scheduling detail. It’s an eternity.</h3><h3>Then I found their contact page.</h3><h3>For non-urgent, non-medical inquiries: submit a form.<br>Response time: <strong>within 3 business days.</strong></h3><h3>Three business days.</h3><h3>If you’re a Supporter reading this, you already know why that’s unacceptable. Dementia doesn’t operate on banker’s hours.</h3><h3>So for us, Tembo is out. Not because the concept is wrong, but because the front door told the truth.</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br><strong>The Five Questions to Ask Any GUIDE Provider</strong><br>If you got this letter too, here’s the practical part you can copy and paste into your notes before you call:</h3><h3><strong>1. How fast do we get a real person after intake?</strong><br>Same day, next day, or “we’ll see you next Tuesday.”<br><strong>2. Who is the care navigator and what are their credentials?</strong><br>And what’s their caseload, if they’ll tell you.<br><strong>3. How do you coordinate with our existing doctors?</strong><br>Do you talk to the neurologist, PCP, social worker? Or do you hand me a list and wish me luck.<br><strong>4. What support is actually available for the Supporter?</strong><br>Training, coaching, respite, crisis planning, local resources. Real things. Not a PDF.<br><strong>5. What happens if we enroll and it’s not a fit?</strong><br>How do we exit, and do we lose anything by trying.<br>&nbsp;<br><strong>Supporter, not caretaker</strong><br>One more thing, because language matters.</h3><h3>I don’t consider myself a caretaker. Not yet, and hopefully not for a long time. I’m Tim’s <strong>Supporter</strong> and he’s a <strong>Traveler.</strong></h3><h3>That’s not cute branding. It’s a boundary and a truth. A diagnosis doesn’t erase agency. Our job is to keep the person in the room, not turn them into a project.</h3><h3>GUIDE may be a step toward that. We’ll see.</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br>I<strong>f you got this letter too</strong><br>Don’t toss it. Don’t panic. Don’t assume it’s useless.</h3><h3>Check your coverage type. Call the providers. Ask the questions. Trust the front door.</h3><h3>And if you want to compare notes, comment with:</h3><h3>your state<br>which provider you contacted<br>whether the first five minutes felt human or salesy<br>Because the first five minutes are often the truth.</h3><h3>I told Katherine I hope we don’t need any of this. She said she hopes the same. Then she said the line that matters: <strong>register now, not later.</strong></h3><h3>Because later is when you’re tired, stressed, and trying to make decisions with one shoe on.</h3><h3>So yes. I’m with her.</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br><strong>MiM Connect</strong><br>If you want the Supporter-first tools we’re building (scripts, routines, checklists, “what to say when,” and the dignity-forward version of daily structure), start here: https://livewithmim.org/register</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br><br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;<br>&nbsp;</h3>

If You Got the Medicare GUIDE Letter, Do This First

<h3>We were scheduled to drive to Dartmouth Hitchcock for Tim’s PET scan yesterday. Then New Hampshire rolled out freezing rain and the kind of winter warning that turns a simple appointment into a risk assessment.</h3><h3>So we rescheduled.</h3><h3>Tim wrote this in the gap between “not today” and “soon.” It’s funny, blunt, and very Tim, which is exactly the point. A PET scan is one diagnostic tool, not a verdict. It can add information, but it doesn’t get to rewrite who a person is.</h3><h3>Over to him.</h3><h3>Cheers!<br>Vanessa</h3><h2>Having my head examined<br>12/30/2025<br>by Tim</h2><h3>We missed my PET scan yesterday because of a winter weather alert that convinced Vanessa and I we were probably going to die if we went anywhere outdoors. So we didn’t, but it was a day that socked us in with freezing temps, freezing rain and frozen ambitions. My exam was to be held at the Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center in Lebanon, New Hampshire, a good hour and a half drive from home on a good day.</h3><h3>I was glad my appointment could be rescheduled for a later date, but not glad to be having the procedure. A PET Scan tells neurologists if your head is carrying around any of those sticky blobs called lipids that gum up the cranium. It is currently our best test for the presence of Alzheimer's, at least until they find a better one. That’s what makes me uneasy about it. Do I really want to know?</h3><h3>The reason I’m not thrilled to have my PET scanned is two fold: One, if I test positive, then I know I’m gonna die of this nasty unstoppable demon in my brain. But two, isn’t it even worse if I DON’T have it, and all these dementia look-alike symptoms I have are there because I’m just another idiot who can’t recall things like who plays the Jets next Sunday (who really cares anyway) or how to get to the other side of Lake Winnipesaukee or even how to spell it.</h3><h3>My test has now been rescheduled, and I shall go, weather permitting.</h3><h3>&nbsp;<br><b>***</b><br>If you’re supporting someone through testing, here are three sentences you can borrow:</h3><h3>“We’re getting information. We’re not declaring a future.”</h3><h3><br>“We do the next right step, then we stop.”</h3><h3><br>“You are still you. The test doesn’t get a vote in that.”</h3><h3><br><br></h3><p><br></p>

Dartmouth Deferred

Memory In Motion