It isn’t often you discover a cool gift when you’re at a doctor appointment, but that’s what happened just last week.
St. Bob had a check-up on his knee replacement, and since Bob is up on all matters tech, he noticed the doctor was wearing a Google Glass thingy on his eyeglasses.
Turns out this gizmo will make dictation a thing of a past. For decades doctors have had to summarize their patient visits into a mike after each exam, transcribed later by an assistant.
But now they’re starting to wear these phenomenal spectacles that connect them to a remote scribe so they can keep notes as they go, right while you’re sitting there talking to them. Our guy’s scribe is in India.
Augmedix says they are rehumanizing doctor/patient relations this way, and are investing millions to do it.
Can you imagine the ways I could use such a device? “Wait—didn’t you just buy celery two days ago?” it could ask as I’m losing my mind in the produce department. Or it could prompt me with impressive trivia when in a conversation with a Brainiac at a party. And I could keep it busy all day, telling me why I just went upstairs, or into the family room, where I now stand wondering what I came in for.
Like a little assistant sitting on my shoulder--but an angel instead of a devil-- it could tell me to slow my driving down (which I would ignore), or remind me to put the laundry in the dryer. It could catch spelling mistakes as I write along, it could remind me that I wore the red blouse at the last meeting, and it could even tell me about sudden sales, better traffic routes, or how to fix the microwave without calling a repairman.
You could suddenly go on the speaking circuit, using this thing as your personal teleprompter. You could ask for a raise, propose to your girlfriend, apologize profusely—win a zillion friends.
On the other hand, knowing our budget, Bob could buy me a bargain one and I could get an idiot on the other end, giving me all the wrong answers.
“Turn left,” he would say. And then as I’m careening down a cliff, “Oops.”
Or my scribe could forget to make the list I said I needed, and leave me to wander aimlessly with a shopping cart, finally picking up his favorite pickled herring and jalapeno mustard.
No, this thing has to be done right. Which is where you come in. Be a lamb and buy a few of my books here. Seriously, there’s something for everyone and royalties for me. That’s how I’ll finally get the brain I need.