Company
develops virtual meal technology
Harvey Bumpus doesn't like to eat alone. But his
wife died more than a year ago and his family is
scattered across the country. Most nights, he
heats up a simple meal of oatmeal or hot dogs
and eats alone.
"I don't have much choice," said the 82-year-old
retired correctional officer who looks forward
to Christmas as one of the few days each year
when he gathers with his family.
Now, the technology consulting company Accenture
is developing a system called "The Virtual
Family Dinner" that would allow families to get
together — virtually — as often as they'd like.
The concept is simple. An elderly woman in, say,
California, makes herself dinner. When she gets
ready to sit down and eat, the system detects it
and alerts her son in Chicago. The son then goes
to his kitchen, where a small camera and
microphone capture what he is doing. Speakers
and a screen — as big as a television or as
small as a picture frame — allow him to hear and
see his mother, who has a similar setup.
"We are trying to really bring back the kind of
family interactions we used to take for
granted," said Dadong Wan, a senior researcher
in Accenture Ltd.'s Chicago labs.
Experts say such interactions could address a
growing problem: elderly people who eat alone
often don't eat enough or eat the wrong kinds of
food. It can trigger a host of physical and
mental problems that eventually can become
life-threatening.
"To physically eat with others, to be able to do
that, there are not only social benefits, but
health benefits," said Dr. Julie Locher,
assistant professor of medicine at the
University of Alabama-Birmingham, who
specializes in eating issues among older people.
Locher, who suspects virtual meals could
forestall hospitalization or placement in
nursing homes, was so intrigued with Accenture's
project she plans to study it.
When a prototype becomes available, possibly in
about two years, it likely will cost $500 to
$1,000 per household, Wan said.
Senior Accenture manager Peter Glaser said he
hopes insurance companies and government
agencies help pay for the system, much as they
do for home health care workers, once they see
its benefits.
But it must be easy to operate to attract people
like Bumpus, who doesn't own a computer and may
be intimidated by technology, Glaser said.
Although video conferencing with a PC and webcam
is widely used today, it requires technical
know-how.
In Accenture's lab, projectors are mounted on
the ceilings of two mock kitchens — Wan is in
one and Glaser is down the hall in the other. In
each, activities taking place in the other room
are projected onto a large window, allowing the
men to watch each other; microphones allow them
to carry on a conversation.
In homes, cameras and microphones could be
placed on top of a counter or TV set or built
into "smart picture frames that capture what is
going on in one kitchen and display it in the
other," Wan said. The screens can show just the
person or the entire room, depending how the
cameras are set up.
The system could incorporate computers,
television sets and broadband already in many
homes, so customers could have the system
installed much the same as they do cable
television, Glaser said.
Wan said the Virtual Family Dinner goes further
than today's video conferencing.
For example, when an elderly person puts a meal
on the table, the system's software
automatically finds family members who are
similarly wired and determines who might be
available.
That could be done in any number of ways,
including determining whether a networked family
member is watching television. It could then
send a message that would be displayed on the
TV.
"It might tell you 'Mom is on channel 456,'"
said Glaser. The relative could then click to
that channel.
Other companies are conducting research into
remote monitoring of the elderly, but no one is
focusing on daily casual dining, Glaser said.
Such a window into the lives of elderly loved
ones is an exciting prospect for Dr. Cai Glushak,
a Chicago physician who is the caregiver for his
parents in New York. Glushak is medical director
for AXA Assistance, which has a program in which
elderly patients are monitored by the company.
What makes Accenture's work so compelling, he
said, is that it extends to him as a son the
same kind of access that AXA's program allows
medical professionals.
"I feel very limited by only being able to talk
on the phone most of the time," said Glushak,
one of an estimated 34 million Americans caring
for a person age 50 or older.
"To get a look at them would give you a whole
new understanding of what is going on," he said,
noting it would be helpful to know everything
from how thin they look to whether they're
combing their hair or wearing clean clothes.
"You could also see their surroundings,
(whether) they're ordered or disheveled," he
said.
But some people, like Lucia West-Jones,
executive director of the Northeastern Illinois
Area Agency on Aging, wonder whether the ability
to gather such information would raise privacy
concerns among the elderly.
Some seniors might steer clear of anything that
allows others to gather information that could
be used to take away independence.
"This would really have to be a tool older
people felt complete control over and when they
turn it off, it is off," West-Jones said.
Arthur Baker, a 62-year-old disabled veteran who
lives in Chicago, had the same thought.
"If it's like Big Brother or something, that's
always going to be a concern," he said.
Still, Baker said he'd welcome anything that
would help him connect to his son and five
grandchildren in Atlanta, whom he rarely sees.
So would Bumpus.
"To reach out and almost touch each other, that
sounds really good to me," he said.
