Aphasia Communication App: How One Brother Gave a Stroke Survivor His Voice Back For four or five hours, Robert Schmidtbauer’s younger brother lay on the floor of their Wisconsin home, unable to get himself up. Robert found him when he got home from a late shift driving cabs. His brother had been drinking that night, but this wasn’t alcohol; it was a stroke, one that would put him in the University of Wisconsin Hospital for three weeks and in rehab for six months. His brother was already living with ataxia, a rare progressive condition that had taken his ability to walk and had begun to affect his speech. The stroke made it dramatically worse. Today, unless you know him well, you’ll understand only 60 to 70 percent of what he says. It’s usually the end of a sentence, the last few words, the part that carries the point that disappears. Robert became the translator. For years, every visitor, every relative, every tradesperson needed him in the room to fill in the blanks. Then he built something better: an aphasia communication app called Larry’s Speakeasy, priced at nine dollars for life, now used by people in 20 countries. When the Speech Problem Has No Official Name One detail of this story will be familiar to many stroke families: Robert’s brother has never been formally diagnosed with aphasia. The doctors attributed his speech difficulties to the combination of ataxia and stroke and left it there. After a year of speech therapy and his own reading, Robert concluded there was “probably some of that in there,” but no clinician ever gave the problem a name. That matters, because a diagnosis is often the doorway to resources. Without one, nobody hands you a communication aid, a device funding pathway, or even a list of options. Robert’s brother got speech therapy two or three hours a week while it lasted, some practice phrases to take home, and nothing else. The Gap Nobody Warns Stroke Families About Rehab ends. The communication problem doesn’t. When Robert’s brother came home, the brothers developed their own system: Robert would catch 90 percent of a sentence, ask him to repeat the rest up to three times, and then ask him to spell the words letter by letter. That was the system for years. Robert credits his stint teaching English online to students around the world for training his ear to listen closely. But the system only worked when Robert was in the room. The moment that changed everything was ordinary: a new housekeeper came to quote on cleaning, and Robert’s brother, who runs the inside of the house, couldn’t make himself understood on the details. Robert stood in the middle, finishing sentences. He’d felt like a “third wheel” through his brother’s rehab, looking for a way to genuinely help. Standing in that kitchen, he found it. “I had one person on my wing that no one else in the building could understand but me. And even I had a 50% chance of understanding what he really wanted.” — a care facility director, on why a tool like this matters What Is an Aphasia Communication App? An aphasia communication app is software that speaks for a person whose own speech is impaired a modern, affordable form of what clinicians call AAC (augmentative and alternative communication). Larry’s Speakeasy does two things, deliberately kept simple: Type-to-speak. If your hands still work, you type any phrase or sentence, and the app says it out loud. One-tap phrases. For people with limited hand function, pre-made buttons cover emergencies (“I need to go to the bathroom,” “call the doctor”) and everyday phrases hello, goodbye, and a growing list Robert adds to as users suggest them. The market Robert walked into explains why he built his own. At the affordable end, there’s roughly one comparable app at around $13. After that, the next step up starts near $150 and climbs to $7,000–$8,000 for dedicated equipment that requires training and support to operate. Between a cup-of-coffee app and a small car’s worth of hardware, there was almost nothing. Robert priced Larry’s Speakeasy at $8.99 once, for life. “It’s not here for me to get rich off of,” he says. “It’s my brother, and I want it to help.” Built With AI, in Days, by a Retiree Robert is 67, with a background in television and radio rather than software. He’d spent months learning to work with AI tools and, in his words, cussing and swearing at the computer. When the housekeeper moment landed, he posed a different question to the AI: how can I help my brother’s speech? And had a working version running within about two or three days, refined over the following months. That’s worth pausing on. The tools to solve a real disability problem at kitchen-table scale now exist for people who aren’t programmers. A determined care partner built, tested, and shipped an aphasia communication app from rural Wisconsin no company, no funding, no advertising. Around 260 people across 20 countries have tried it, and it’s listed as a resource on the National Aphasia Association website. More Than an Emergency Button The use cases stretch well beyond the kitchen: Therapy practice. Practice phrases from a speech pathologist can be loaded into the app and drilled at home with or without a partner. Video calls. Open the app in one window and Zoom or FaceTime in another, and a person who can’t speak clearly can hold a conversation with family anywhere in the world. Robert saw his own mother’s isolation in a care facility years ago; this is his answer to it. Care facilities. An iPad on a care cart could let staff understand residents nobody else can and document requests, which protects residents and facilities alike. Where to Find It The app lives at LarrySpeakeasy.com, with a seven-day free trial before the one-time $8.99 purchase. Try it, and if it helps, it helps, as Robert puts it; there’s no push. Stories like Robert’s are why this podcast exists: ordinary people refusing to accept the gap between what the system provides and what recovery actually needs. If that resonates, my book, The Unexpected Way That A Stroke Became The Best Thing That Happened, shares ten tools for recovery and personal transformation drawn from my own stroke journey and hundreds of survivor interviews; you’ll find it at https://recoveryafterstroke.com/book. And if this show has helped you, you can support it at https://patreon.com/recoveryafterstroke. This blog is for informational purposes only and does not constitute medical advice. Please consult your doctor before making any changes to your health or recovery plan. Robert Schmidtbauer – Building a Voice for My Brother (Interview) After a stroke, Robert’s brother lost clear speech and had no tools to cope. So Robert built one: a simple app that speaks for those who can’t. Highlights: 00:00 Introduction – Aphasia Communication App 01:21 Challenges in Communication Post-Stroke 05:17 Stroke Experience and Recovery 12:20 Communication Challenges and Solutions 17:43 Creating Solutions Through AI 18:03 Introducing the Aphasia Communication App 21:13 Expanding Accessibility in Care Facilities 27:14 Final Thoughts and Resources 29:19 Bridging Communication Gaps 30:14 Resources for Stroke Survivors Transcript: Introduction – Aphasia Communication App Robert (00:00) If I ask him three times, I still can’t understand it. Like, spell it for me. You know, so I mean, that’s kind of how we got by until I developed this app. Lacunar Stroke New Research (00:10) Hello, everyone, and welcome to another episode of the Recovery After Stroke Podcast. Before we get into it today, I want to say a massive thank you to all my Patreon supporters and to everyone who supports this podcast. You are the reason this show keeps going. And I appreciate every single one of you. If you’d like to help keep these episodes coming, you can support the show at patreon.com/slash recovery after stroke. And if you’re looking for tools to guide you, On your own recovery, my book, The Unexpected Way that a Stroke Became, the best thing that happened, is available at recovery after stroke.com slash book. Now, today’s episode is a little different. My guest is Robert Schmidtbauer. And Robert is not a stroke survivor, he’s a care partner. His younger brother was already living with ataxia, a rare condition affecting his muscles and speech, when a stroke six or seven years ago made communication between the two brothers harder than it had ever been. In this conversation, we talk about what it’s like to be the person who translates for someone you love, what happens when rehab ends and the communication problem doesn’t? And what Robert decided to do about it. Something that might genuinely help other families in the same situation. Challenges in Communication Post-Stroke BIll Gasiamis (01:30) Robert Schmidtbauer welcome to the podcast. Robert (01:33) Thank BIll Gasiamis (01:33) can you give me a little bit of a rundown on you and your relationship with your brother before he had a stroke? Robert (01:42) My brother’s nine years younger than I am, so he’s 56, no, 58 now. And we’ve been living here. He originally got out of high school, went to travel school in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and lived there for a number of years. He has a taxia, and he moved home. to my mother’s house. Let’s see, we’ve been here 16 years now in this house living together. And he moved home about 20 years ago. Not quite, maybe like 18, 18 and a half. The ataxia took away his ability to walk. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with ataxia, but it’s kind of like in the muscular dystrophy realm. And it’s very, very, very rare. he attacks your muscles. depending on the seriousness and the kind, there’s like 20 different kinds. You probably wind up dying from it because it slowly affects your muscles. And the first things to go usually are your ex