I’ve been dealing with unreliable caregivers for years. It’s not a new story—post a job on Indeed, get a few applicants, maybe even hire someone… and then the no-shows start. Shifts get canceled at the last minute, people ghost, or they don’t show up at all. For someone with cerebral palsy who relies on help for transfers, daily routines, and basic independence, that inconsistency isn’t just inconvenient. It can leave you literally stuck—stuck in bed, stuck waiting, stuck losing hours (or days) of your life to something that shouldn’t be this hard.

Last night, I saw a short video about a new humanoid robot called Moya, developed by the Shanghai-based company DroidUp. Watch it here:

When I watched that clip, one thought hit me immediately: Give me that humanoid build, powered by Grok as the brain, and I never have to fear getting stuck in bed again.

Here’s why this form factor feels right for long-term caregiving, at least for me:

• Reliability 24/7 — No sick days, no family emergencies, no “I’m running late.” An AI-powered robot doesn’t call in. It’s always there, ready when I wake up, ready at 3 a.m. if I need repositioning, ready to help with transfers without complaint or fatigue.
• Personalization through AI — Pairing hardware like Moya’s with something like Grok (or a future Grok-powered system from xAI) means the “brain” could learn my specific needs. My cerebral palsy is pretty unique—no major complications beyond the mobility piece—so training would have to be hyper-specific: how I like to be lifted, my preferred hand placements, my routines for getting dressed, eating, gaming, recording podcasts. A general-purpose robot wouldn’t cut it; it needs to adapt to me, not force me to adapt to it.
• Natural presence — The goal isn’t a clunky industrial machine that draws stares or makes people uncomfortable.(Idea with enough of that already, and if people are going to look, I want them to see something cool and approachable) Moya’s design leans toward something that blends in—human proportions, fluid movement, expressive face. In public, it could walk beside me without screaming “robot bodyguard.” People already know I’m loud and outgoing (on purpose, because I’m trying to put people at ease), but I don’t want more fear or awkwardness added to the mix just because of a hunk of tech next to me. A companion-like form factor keeps things feeling normal, not sci-fi dystopian.

This isn’t about replacing human connection—I still want friends, family, laughs, and real conversations. It’s about solving the practical gap: consistent, on-time, judgment-free help for the basics so I can actually live more of the life I want. More time for stand-up, DJing, gaming, streaming, ministry, whatever. Less time worrying if today’s caregiver will actually show.

I’ve been trying to get this kind of input in front of Elon and the xAI/Tesla/Optimus team for months because I think people with disabilities like mine have real, high-value data to offer for training. We’re not edge cases; we’re the use cases that prove whether these systems are truly helpful or just hype.

For now, I’m still refreshing Indeed and hoping for better luck. But videos like Moya’s remind me the future isn’t as far off as it sometimes feels. A reliable, intelligent, human-friendly assistant? Yeah—somebody call me because I’m your guy and I’m ready to go to work.

What do you think? If you’re reading this and have thoughts (or connections!), drop a comment or hit me up on X (@manonwheels). The conversation has to start somewhere.