Memo is the only technology available today to help specifically with memory loss.
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Remember when Princess Diana said that the problem with her marriage is that there were three people in it? Caregivers of Alzheimers patients can have the opposite problem. As one caregiver said, “There’s only one person in this relationship, and it’s not me.”
A speaker on stress management had that old glass of water that was either half full or half empty. But she had a different message in mind...
An exciting new study proves what we've "known" all along: people who maintain positive emotions live on an upward spiral toward happiness and health!
Imagine an America that is at normal weight, fit, and healthy. Health care costs would plummet, and the budget problems would be solved!
The elderly gentleman kept asking a young woman, apparently his daughter, why they were in line. He obviously had some dementia, and she was getting tired of telling him time after time that they were getting basketball tickets.
Imagine waking up every day and not knowing what day it is. You look outside and see snow on the ground, so it must be winter. But November, January, or March? You don’t know.
Oh, how things have changed just in the last two years! When we started Memo Touch in the summer of 2010, there were very few ten-inch tablets on the market, and most of them were way too expensive for our purposes. We chose a good one, loaded our software on it, and sold it as a package.
We all take our ability to remember things for granted, until we see the devastating effects when that memory is impaired. Few people understand what it is like to care for a family member with short-term memory loss until they have experienced it.
I got a lesson a while ago about the importance of memory. As long as memory function remains intact, we’re hardly aware of it. It just performs little miracles in the background, soundlessly and without any attention, like a million computer calculations guiding a missile to Mars. When memory fails, however, there’s lots of sputtering.
An elderly gentleman was standing near me in the canned meat aisle. I was trying to guess which can of tuna might be less than half water; he was reminiscing about Spam.
“Spam,” he said. “Your mother used to fry it with sliced potatoes and onions. I think they were the little sweet white onions. Not the kind you get now. I think she used to put a little butter in the pan.”
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