A few months ago, I visited a memory care center in Tennessee. The afternoon sun poured through the large windows into a quiet lounge. An elderly woman sat calmly on the couch, her companion beside her not a nurse, but a four-foot-tall robot with a soft voice and large, gentle eyes. It was playing an old Elvis tune. She quietly hummed along, a smile slowly forming on her face—warm, unguarded, childlike.
This wasn’t science fiction. It was a social robot developed by Dr. Xiaopeng Zhao and his team. More than just a machine, this robot can talk, dance, tell jokes, play music, and—perhaps most importantly—remember the past when people forget. For patients with Alzheimer’s or other forms of dementia, it can trigger joyful memories of youth through old songs, familiar stories, and sports trivia. While it may not restore memory, it can bring comfort, conversation, and emotional well-being. For exhausted caregivers, it also provides practical advice on managing dementia-related behaviors and even offers tips to reduce stress.
But this is just one part of a bigger picture. Robots are quietly stepping into our healthcare systems—not to take over, but to support, to heal, and to remind us that technology, when done right, can feel almost human.
I still remember the first time I witnessed a soft robotic device in action during surgery. At a lab at the University of Maryland, mechanical engineer Dr. Ryan Sochol showed me a microcatheter that looked more like a cooked noodle than a tool. It was designed to gently navigate the body's intricate blood vessels to reach aneurysms deep in the brain—places a traditional catheter simply couldn’t go. Thanks to 3D printing and soft materials, these devices bend on command and allow for safer, less invasive procedures. Less blood loss, quicker recovery, and more precision.
“We built a microcatheter that can steer itself through the twists and turns of the brain’s vasculature,” Sochol told me. “It’s like giving the surgeon a third hand—but more flexible, and more precise.”
These soft robotic tools aren’t just limited to brain surgery. Researchers supported by the NIH are exploring similar technologies for heart procedures, lung biopsies, and gastrointestinal operations. Most of these remain in development, but in five to ten years, they could be saving lives in hospitals near you.
And then there are the robots that help us walk again.
At the Georgia Institute of Technology, biomedical engineer Dr. Gregory Sawicki is studying wearable exoskeletons—robotic braces you can strap onto your legs like pants or boots. These devices work in sync with your muscles to help you move with less effort. For older adults, that can mean more independence, fewer falls, and the ability to stay active longer.
I watched a video of a stroke survivor taking his first steps in years with the help of an exoskeleton. His wife stood nearby, tears streaming down her face. “We never thought he’d walk again,” she whispered.
Falls are a silent threat to seniors, often leading to fractures, long hospital stays, and loss of autonomy. But exoskeletons can detect balance issues and respond faster than human reflexes. The new models are getting lighter, softer, and more wearable—more like sports gear than sci-fi armor.
Some people worry that robots might replace human contact, but in reality, most of these innovations are designed to support human care—not to replace it. Robots can handle repetitive tasks, offer 24/7 assistance, and stay endlessly patient, but they can’t replicate love, empathy, or the warmth of a human presence.
When I asked Dr. Zhao if robots could ever replace real relationships, he shook his head. “No machine can replicate human connection,” he said. “Compassion, empathy—those are uniquely human.”
Robots in medicine aren’t here to dominate. They’re here to uplift—to extend the reach of our hands, ease the burdens of care, and gently fill in the spaces where memory and mobility begin to fade. They’re not meant to be heroes, but helpers.
And perhaps one day, when we too are old and in need of a quiet companion, one of these gentle machines will be there—ready to play our favorite song, remind us of a forgotten memory, or simply say, “I’m here.”