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MeYou Care

For someone who cannot use a phone.

One button. Someone familiar. For people living with dementia, and for the families carrying it with them.

Planned

A hand pressing the single button on the MeYou Care pendant, its ring lit.
Press it, and talk. That is the whole of the interface.

How it works

Press. Talk. The rest happens behind it.

Four things, and the person wearing it only ever does the first one.

  1. The person speaks.

    One press on one button. No app, no menu, no screen to read.

  2. The pendant carries it.

    Voice over its own cellular connection, with location and movement alongside it.

  3. It answers, and keeps.

    It replies with what it already knows about this person, and keeps today's words with their date.

  4. The family sees.

    Reminders done, alerts raised, the profile kept up to date — on a page the patient never has to open.

The pendant

Simple on the outside. Everything else inside.

A wearable built for one hand and one habit: press to talk, put it down to charge.

The pendant standing on its magnetic charging dock, the ring lit.
Fool-proof charging. No port, no cable to line up: a magnetic dock that rights the pendant itself.
The breakaway clip on the pendant's lanyard.
A breakaway clip on the lanyard, so something caught on a door handle lets go.

One mechanical button

Large, physical, unmistakable. The whole interface.

A ring of light

Breathing light around the button: listening, answering, charging.

Two microphones

Noise-cancelling, so a room with a television in it still works.

Its own connection

eSIM over LTE-M, straight to MeYou. No phone in the house has to be on.

Location

GPS, for finding the way back home and for sharing where they are with the family.

Movement

A six-axis sensor, for movement over the day and for fall-related alerts.

Made to be worn

Matte, hypoallergenic silicone, sealed to IP68, on a lanyard with a breakaway clip.

Battery, not routine

Sized for LTE-M, charged by being put down on the dock. That is the whole routine.

Concept hardware. Specifications are the design as proposed, not a datasheet of a shipping product, and fall detection is not validated.

Why a pendant

Not an app for a patient. A door into a care system.

The same question, answered two ways. The difference is who carries the complexity.

A phone with an app on it

Interaction
A screen, an app, menus, touch
Connection
Whatever the phone is set up with
Effort
Unlock, find, open, tap, read
Location and movement
Only while the phone is on and permitted
Charging
A cable, the right way round
Built for
Everyone, and so for nobody in particular

The MeYou Care pendant

Interaction
One button and a voice
Connection
Its own, always
Effort
Press
Location and movement
Its own sensors, always on if the family asks for them
Charging
Put it down on the dock
Built for
One person, and the people looking after them

The family page

The family sets it up. The patient just talks.

Six things, once, from a browser. After that the page is for watching, not for working.

  1. Who you are. The family member is identified, and the relationship that allows them to set any of this up is established first.
  2. Who they are. The person's own details: history that matters, medication, allergies, the people to call, what they like.
  3. The pendant. Paired and activated, its connection tested, a first conversation tried, location confirmed.
  4. What happens when. Emergency contacts, what is escalated to whom, the reminders of the day.
  5. Consent. What is kept, who can see it, what MeYou will and will not do — said plainly, before anything runs.
  6. Afterwards. Alerts and events to look at, and a profile to keep current as things change.
The pendant on a table, its ring lit white.
On the table, on a cord, or on the dock. It is always the same button.

A day with it

Six things it is for.

Ordinary talk

"Tell me about my daughter."

It answers with what it already knows, instead of asking the person to explain who they mean.

Getting lost

"How do I get home?"

Where they are can go to the family, if they set that up and the connection allows it.

A reminder

"Did I take my pills?"

It reminds at the agreed time, and records whether the reminder was answered.

A fall

Movement that looks like a fall raises an alert to the people on the list. Treated as a probability, not a fact, until it is validated.

A handover

A new carer reads the profile and the history instead of asking the person to tell it all again.

A doctor's look

Months of ordinary talk, shown as trends with the words behind them, rather than a number to be trusted on its own.

Proposed, to be validated

Everyday talk, seen over months.

Because every conversation is kept as words with its date, some things can be counted instead of remembered.

A world that changes size

How many people, places and plans keep coming up, and whether that number is rising or falling.

Contradictions

Today's account against last month's, and how often the two do not agree.

Stories filled in

Accounts that do not hold together, flagged with how sure the system is — for a person to look at, not to conclude from.

Routine

What was agreed against what the day actually looked like: pills, walks, calls answered.

A change in a number is not a diagnosis. These are proposed signals, to be validated against accepted assessments before they mean anything clinically. They are observations and prompts for a human to look, and nothing on this page is medical advice.

Trust

Designed in, not added later.

This is for people who cannot always speak for themselves, about health and about where they are. That changes what has to be settled first.

A boundary per person

Each person's conversations, profile and events live inside their own database, with deleting and exporting as plain operations rather than requests.

Who may see what

The person, the family, a clinician and the system are separate levels of access, and reaching sensitive records is recorded.

Consent people can follow

Said in language a family can act on, and matched to what the person is legally able to agree to where they live.

What it does in a crisis

An alert to the people on the list is not the same as an emergency service answering. The page and the product say which is which.

What the AI is not

An answer or a trend is not a medical fact. Nothing generated is presented as one.

A record of itself

Configuration, events and decisions leave a trail that can be read back later.

MeYou Care can carry conversation, memory, reminders and alerts. Diagnosis and treatment stay with qualified people, unless and until the evidence and the approvals for anything more exist.

Where it is

Six phases, and we are at the first.

  1. Prototype. The pendant itself: the button, the voice, the dock, the connection. A day with it that works.
  2. Memory. The person's own record and their own database behind it, so nothing starts from nothing.
  3. The family page. Setting up, contacts, configuration, history — the part that makes it deployable in a real house.
  4. Safety testing. Location, movement and fall events, measured under controlled conditions rather than assumed.
  5. Clinical research. The proposed signals put against accepted assessments, to see whether they carry anything.
  6. Regulation. What it counts as, where, and what that requires before it can be sold as care.

MeYou Care is a concept in development. Everything above is the plan, and it is marked as such wherever it appears on this site.

Waitlist

Be one of the first to get the number.

MeYou is live with early users. Leave your address and we will write to you once, when there is a number for you.

One address, one message. It is not sold, and it is not the start of a mailing list.