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<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

And Why This Video Feels Like MiM in Motion After months of combing through the dementia-support landscape, I finally stumbled on the National Council of Dementia Minds. And yes, I’ll say it — I hate the name. But the mission? Absolutely on target. They’re the first national nonprofit in the U.S. governed entirely by people living with dementia. The part that floors me? I didn’t even know they existed until this week. If I didn’t, I’m betting most of you didn’t either.And how did I find them? Through filmmaker Michelle Memran’s work. Michelle’s documentary The Rest I Make Up showed me the power of lived experience to keep creativity alive through dementia. That approach — honoring what remains instead of mourning what’s lost — is exactly how I built MiM.Then I found this NCDM video, and it hit me square in the chest.<a data-mce-href="https://youtu.be/AS2hMWU5N1Q?si=HNzqJn46FWrx03tQ" href="https://youtu.be/AS2hMWU5N1Q?si=HNzqJn46FWrx03tQ">🎥 Watch&nbsp;it here</a>It’s not another pity-party reel. It’s not wringing hands over how “sad” dementia is. It’s not shuffling people to the sidelines like they’ve expired the moment the doctor says the word. It’s lived experience. It’s agency. It’s voices refusing to be reduced to symptoms.And yet — this video has only 23 views in three months. The NCDM YouTube channel? Ten subscribers. That’s not just underexposed — that’s invisible. Which says as much about the stigma around Alzheimer’s and dementia as it does about the algorithm. People don’t click what they don’t want to face.That’s why MiM exists. When my husband Tim was diagnosed, we weren’t given a plan to preserve who he is. We were handed a list of what to take away — his keys, his independence, his routines. That’s what passes for “support” in the system. The assumption is: diagnosis = decline = done.MiM fills that gap. We create daily structure, purpose, and connection with — not for — people living with dementia. We give the mic back to the people who should have been speaking all along.This week, I also “met” Emily Snyder of Borealis Ventures, who helped me think through the seed funding process for MiM. Talking with her, I realized this isn’t just my fight — it’s part of a movement. Michelle’s work, NCDM’s mission, and MiM are all pulling in the same direction: away from stigma and silence, toward visibility and dignity.So here’s my ask:Watch the video. Share it. Tell someone why it matters. Because the only thing worse than a dementia diagnosis is being erased by it.

How I Finally Found the National Council of Dementia Minds

Lately, there’s been a flurry of headlines about lithium reversing memory loss. Some sound like the plot of a sci-fi medical drama: sprinkle a little lithium, and poof—Alzheimer’s is gone.The truth? It’s fascinating, but we’re not there yet.Here’s what the new research really shows:Lithium is already in your brain. It’s a naturally occurring metal your brain uses to keep neurons healthy. In Alzheimer’s, much of that lithium seems to get trapped inside amyloid plaques—the sticky clumps linked to the disease—making the brain functionally lithium-deficient. In mouse models, researchers gave a form of lithium called lithium orotate that bypasses the plaque trap. Result? The mice remembered things they’d forgotten, and markers of the disease improved. Now, before you grab a bottle of lithium online: this was in mice, not people. There are no approved human treatments yet based on this discovery. And lithium isn’t harmless—used medically for mood disorders, it requires careful monitoring to avoid kidney or thyroid issues.But here’s why we’re watching closely at MiM: This isn’t a “magic pill” story. It’s a window into how Alzheimer’s works—and how restoring balance in the brain might help. Every credible lead, whether it’s in the lab or the living room, matters.Our focus at MiM is the daily, doable work: structure, connection, and purpose—the things we know improve quality of life today. But we cheer for the science, too, because the more tools in the toolbox, the better.And if you ever read a headline promising a cure, remember: in research, the mouse often roars before the human whispers.

Lithium and Memory Loss: The Mouse That Roared

If you’ve ever had cable TV on in the middle of the day, you’ve probably met Prevagen — the self-proclaimed brain booster that promises sharper memory thanks to a protein found in… jellyfish.Yes, jellyfish. Because when I think of mental clarity, I naturally think of creatures that drift aimlessly with no brain at all.Here’s the thing: The science behind Prevagen is about as solid as a Jell-O mold at a July picnic. The Federal Trade Commission and the New York Attorney General have both called the company out for making unproven claims. In fact, in 2020, a federal judge ruled that Quincy Bioscience, the makers of Prevagen, had no reliable evidence to back up those “improved memory” ads.That doesn’t mean it won’t do anything. It just means it’s not the miracle some people hope for. And that’s the problem — when you’re staring down an Alzheimer’s diagnosis, you’re vulnerable to hope sold in a bottle.MiM is not here to sell you jellyfish dreams. We’re here to do the slow, unglamorous, daily work that actually helps people live better with early-stage Alzheimer’s:Building structure and routine into each day Re-introducing meaningful past activities Supporting human connection and accountability between Travelers and Supporters Backing it all with real research and a design that respects dignity, not desperation It’s not flashy. It’s not a 30-second infomercial with a smiling couple on a sailboat. It’s work — the kind that compounds into better days, more moments of clarity, and a stronger sense of self.Because your brain deserves more than a jellyfish.

Prevagen: The Magic Memory Pill That Isn’t (And Why MiM Plays the Long Game)

<h3>Early-Onset Alzheimer’s and the Silence No One Talks About</h3><figure id="figure-yislrbi7hmdj9l1ag" data-full-width=""><img id="yislrbi7hmdj9l1ag" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/34aTnTVcUgrrYGnD787dt8Aw8YDJDi1ntWiiHdzsPVDFcZL612EvuOO4hxXakrJ3.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-2xl md:rounded-3xl lg:rounded-4xl selected" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="Too Young to Disappear" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="true" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/34aTnTVcUgrrYGnD787dt8Aw8YDJDi1ntWiiHdzsPVDFcZL612EvuOO4hxXakrJ3.png" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-mce-selected="1"><figcaption class="body-normal text-gray-500 mt-2">Too Young to Disappear</figcaption></figure>By Vanessa Saunders, Founder of MiM (Memory in Motion) Everyone talks about Alzheimer’s like it starts in a rocking chair.Like it waits politely until you're 87, gray-haired, and holding a faded photo of someone you used to recognize.But what if it starts earlier? Much earlier.What if it starts with forgetting the word for remote at 52? Or getting lost on the way home from your regular grocery store? Or staring at a toothbrush and wondering—just for a second—what you’re supposed to do with it?That’s early-onset Alzheimer’s. And there is almost nothing built for it.&nbsp; Where Are the Systems for People Still in Motion? Early-onset Alzheimer’s doesn’t look like the movies. It looks like:A dad who forgets how to start the car—but remembers every World Cup stat from 1982. A mom who can teach a yoga class but can't remember how to open the banking app. A couple who still has a mortgage, still has jobs, still raises kids—and now must navigate a system designed for someone twenty years older and mostly silent. If you're diagnosed at 50, 55, 60... good luck. You’re too young for most clinical trials. Too functional for memory care. Too sharp for your friends to believe you. Too early for help. Too late for denial.&nbsp; And the Support Groups? Let’s just say this: If you're still paying college tuition and someone hands you a support group filled with 80-year-olds reminiscing about Lawrence Welk and their grandkids’ graduations, you're probably going to smile politely, cry in the car, and never go back.&nbsp; This Is What No One Talks About. Alzheimer’s doesn’t arrive all at once. It arrives like fog. Quiet. Creeping. Confusing.But for early-onset patients and their families, that fog lands while life is still happening.Jobs. Bills. Dinner. Children. Spouses. Dreams.There is no pause button for this kind of diagnosis. So why does every form of support act like there is?&nbsp; That’s Why I Built MiM. MiM (Memory in Motion) was built because my husband Tim started forgetting things—and I started realizing no one had built the system we needed.We didn’t need a pamphlet. We needed a plan.We didn’t need a support group that met once a month in the back room of a hospital. We needed daily reminders, structure, empathy, and tools that helped us keep our life intact while the ground shifted beneath it.MiM isn’t a medical app. It’s a life support system for early-stage Alzheimer’s. It’s for the Travelers who are still capable of so much—and the Supporters who are trying to keep it all together without burning out or breaking down.&nbsp; If You're Reading This... You may be in that quiet in-between space. The stage where you’re not quite sure if this is real. Where it still feels like maybe it’s stress. Or aging. Or burnout. Or lack of sleep.But you know. You’ve seen the shift. And maybe you’re terrified to say the word out loud.That’s okay. MiM was built for exactly this moment.Before things get worse. Before routines fall apart. Before the system fails you.Because it will. Unless we build something better. Together.&nbsp; Learn More 🔗 https://livewithmim.orgWe’re not here to replace doctors, trials, or medication. We’re here to do what they won’t: walk with you every day after the diagnosis.&nbsp; 💡 MiM: Built to Remember. Designed to Care. 🐘 Share this. Someone needs it right now—even if they’re not ready to say it out loud yet.

🧠 What Happens When You're Too Young to Disappear?

Memory In Motion

MiM Memory in Motion provides practical daily-life support for people navigating memory change, Alzheimer’s disease, dementia, MCI, PCA, Lewy body dementia, and other cognitive changes — and the Supporters walking beside them. MiM helps Founding Teams build routines, preserve dignity, support meaningful activities, improve communication, and create a calmer daily rhythm after “something has changed.” MiM is not medical care, a clinical trial, or a replacement for licensed professionals. It is the bridge between diagnosis and daily life.

The MiM Spark Blog

Bridging the Gap in the Canyon

Routine, Schmoutine — Turns Out It Works

How I Finally Found the National Council of Dementia Minds

Lithium and Memory Loss: The Mouse That Roared

Prevagen: The Magic Memory Pill That Isn’t (And Why MiM P...

🧠 What Happens When You're Too Young to Disappear?