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Posts from the ‘Real Life Diabetes’ Category

Twitter Rant.

The lows that have been creeping in lately need to stop.  They are inconvenient at best, completely debilitating at their worst and the in-between is a muddled mess of glucose tab dust and frustration.  Yesterday I had a diabetes technology fail coupled with a highly symptomatic hypoglycemic event that occurred simultaneously with a phone call to the Joslin Clinic … which sent me over to Twitter with an agenda of rage.

First, it was my Dexcom receiver that went berserk on me, telling me on both my Animas Vibe and my G4 receiver that my blood sugar was 202 mg/dL with double arrows down but after my feet weren’t responding to the “MOVE!” commands from my brain, I grabbed my meter to double-check. And saw a blood sugar of 43 mg/dL.

I immediately went for the glucose tabs and housed several of them. The low symptoms were intense – confusion, anger, tears, and a hand too shaky to hold the jar of tabs properly, so I held it with two hands, like those stock photos of baby panda bears drinking from a baby bottle.

Then the phone rang, and I answered it because: 1. When I’m low, I make bad decisions, and 2. It was the Joslin Clinic calling and I always answer their calls because Joslin.

Yes, my insurance company is requiring a c-peptide test to confirm my type 1 diabetes status in order to cover my new insurance pump.

The irony was not lost on me.

I felt like a crumb for ranting but sometimes I’m a crumb.

And then the anger/adrenaline surge subsided and I was in that “weak with post-hypo panic, stupid body, knew I’d be fine in a few minutes but what the fuck” sort of fallout.

Eventually, as it always does, my blood sugar came back up and my brain tuned back into things happening on the planet. My CGM/Vibe/meter were back in alignment, showing me in the 80′s and holding steady.

But I’m still waiting for Joslin to call me back. You know, to confirm the type 1 diabetes I’ve had for 28 years.

#WeAreNotWaiting: The (Not So?) Brief Story of Tidepool.

Technology has scrambled forward by true leaps and bounds in the last few years, making my Clinitest urinalysis kit of 1986 seem pretty archaic.  Now, people touched by diabetes can see their glucose levels with a flick of their wrist, and there’s more on the horizon as far as data and diabetes management.  Today I’m so happy to have Howard Look, President, CEO and Founder of Tidepool, sharing his personal diabetes story on SUM, talking about why he simply cannot wait.

*   *   *

“Katie, why are you going to the bathroom again?”

“I have to go! And I’m SOOOO thirsty!”

Our story is probably familiar: We were on a weekend camping trip and all together in our family-sized tent. Katie, now 14 but 11 at the time, had gotten up THREE TIMES that night, unzipping the tent and wandering with her flashlight to the campground bathroom. The next morning, breakfast was the usual campground fare – several glasses of orange juice and pancakes.

By noon, Katie was throwing up.

It was an exciting time in our family, full of possibility. Katie had just started 6th grade at a new school. She was making new friends, trying out for the softball team, and was ready for new challenges and a new chapter in her life. Who knew.

Katie one week before diagnosis. I look at this now and realize how much weight she had lost.

Katie one week before diagnosis. I look at this now and realize how much weight she had lost.

A day later, we were at Lucille Packard Children’s Hospital at Stanford. I just wanted someone to say “Don’t worry, your daughter is not going to die.” I wasn’t so sure. After a sleepless night and a morning full of words we didn’t understand (beta cells, boluses, ketoacidosis…) our heads were spinning. Fortunately, our day-one angel, Jen Block, looked Katie straight in the eye and calmly reassured us: “Katie, I just want you to know that everything is going to be OK. You are going to be fine. I have type 1 diabetes just like you.” Jen showed Katie her insulin pump and explained how she could have the same thing. In Jen, I could see a grown-up Katie. And finally I knew everything was going to be OK.

Well, sort of…

Like Crawling through Broken Glass
I’m a nerd, a Geek Dad. I’ve lived and worked in Silicon Valley since college and have been really fortunate to be a part of some really cool things: I was on the founding team at TiVo and was VP of Software at Pixar. Just prior to Tidepool I was VP of Software at Amazon.

Like geeks do, I dove in to try to understand what T1D was all about. Katie had mastered computing doses and giving herself shots really quickly (great at math, that’s my girl) and we saw the value in an insulin pump and CGM right away. Within three months, Katie was on a pump and a CGM.

I tried to get us up and running with the software that came with her pump. Bzzzzzt. No sorry, thank you for playing. It won’t work with your browser. OK, you made it work with your browser, but your plugin is out of date. OK, you updated the plugin but BEWARE: it’s an unsigned app that you shouldn’t trust. OK, you are willing to take that risk, but your new computer has USB 3.0 and the USB stick isn’t compatible with that.

Some people wonder why almost no one uploads their pump data… I think I know why: because getting it to work can be like CRAWLING. THROUGH. BROKEN. GLASS. And remember: I’m a software guy, a Geek Dad… I usually LIKE dealing with this stuff. But I found that even if you could get it all to work, the software didn’t provide intuitive, actionable insights.

To make matters worse, Katie didn’t like her first CGM. It hurt to put it in (we called it “the harpoon”) and it wasn’t accurate for her. Fortunately, the Dexcom G4 had just come out, which worked MUCH better. It hurt less and gave readings that were dead-on with her BGM.

But unfortunately, Dexcom Studio is PC only we are a Mac family. I sorted that out (with Parallels for Mac), but still, we had one piece of software for the CGM, a different piece of software for the pump and BGMs, and no way to see it all together in one place.

I asked myself, over and over:

Why is this so hard? And WHY ISN’T ANYONE DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT???

Right around that time, fellow Geek Dad, T1D guy and tech blogger Scott Hanselman posted
The Sad State of Diabetes Technology in 2012”. I was fist pumping and shouting “Yeah! What he said!!!” while reading it. If you scroll halfway down the comments, you’ll see me chiming in:

“… I have a dream that a smart, motivated team of people could create ‘The Mozilla … of Diabetes Technology.’ … What if we … did it in a way the wasn’t constrained by VC funding and sought goodness, not profit?”

Scott’s article catalyzed me to take action. I met with anyone that would talk to me and looked for people who felt like I did. Jen Block introduced me to Lane Desborough (at Medtronic at the time), who introduced me to Aaron Kowalski at JDRF, who introduced me to Brandon Arbiter, who had invented this amazing app called Nutshell. I had found my peeps.

Jen also introduced me to Dr. Joyce Lee, who connected me to Dr. Saleh Adi at UCSF, and to Steve McCanne, yet another Geek Dad (or as I called us “D-Dads with Attitudes”). Steve also has a teen daughter with T1D, and had been hacking some code to make it easier for Dr. Adi to review his daughter’s data, all in one place. When I saw what Steve and Dr. Adi and the team at UCSF had put together, I knew it was the start of something beautiful.

#WeAreNotWaiting
Fast forward to now, early 2015. Tidepool has existed for just over a year and a half and I’m really proud of what we’ve accomplished in a very short period of time. As the hashtag says, #WeAreNotWaiting.

In the beginning, we got funded by some very generous donors. That allowed me to hire an amazing team of developers and designers. Six of us have T1D, and two of us have family members with T1D. We like to say “We have pancreas in the game.”

Our mission is simple: Deliver great software that helps reduce the burden of managing T1D.

We’re tackling that mission in a pretty unique way:

  • We are a non-profit. We’re not in this for the money. We’re in this to help make things better for the whole diabetes industry. By not competing, we can get more done.
  • We are an open source project. This lets us leverage a vibrant, motivated community. It also means we are giving away the source code for free.
  • We feel strongly that design and usability matter. T1D is a burdensome disease. You don’t need the software to be making it worse.
  • We are building everything with the utmost attention to privacy, security, HIPAA and regulatory compliance. Yes, this is more work and takes longer, but without this, we can’t achieve broad distribution and help as many people as possible.

Most importantly, we are helping the industry see the value in liberating device data. We’ve made it very clear: We believe that patients own their own health data. People should get to choose what software they want to use to for their diabetes therapy with that data.

We’ve made great progress on the open data front: Asante, Dexcom, Insulet, Tandem and Abbott have all given us their data protocols. We also have great supporters at Animas and Medtronic and they are considering it. We will also implement and support the IEEE 11073 standards for BGMs, CGMs and pumps, which will make it that much easier for device makers to create interoperable products.

What is Tidepool building, and where are we headed?
The Tidepool Platform enables the next wave of diabetes applications. It’s secure, HIPAA-compliant and lets you choose how you want to see and share your data. We hope that it will foster a whole new ecosystem of applications that help reduce the burden of T1D.

The Tidepool Uploader gets data from any diabetes device that has made their device protocol available.  It’s a Chrome Extension, so it works with Macs and PCs (and Linux, too, if you’re a geek like us :) . JDRF generously funded development of the Uploader. The project will also make it easier to gather data that will be useful to artificial pancreas researchers.

Blip is the home for all of your data. You can see it all in one place. You and the people who support you can use Blip to look, learn and make informed decisions together. Blip is currently being used in a pilot study at UCSF. We’re talking to other clinics like Stanford as well. We hope to have Blip ready for broad testing and deployment in the first half of 2015.

Nutshell is a mobile app that remembers what you ate and ties it together with your diabetes numbers. The next time you order that burrito, you can figure out how much insulin you need with confidence. Nutshell currently exists as a working prototype and we’re looking for funding to take it further.

Going forward, we have lots other projects to tackle:

  •  We’ll be asking users if they’d like to donate their data to an anonymized research database. We plan on exposing that database freely. We also plan on creating the “Tidepool Query Language” and APIs that will enable researchers to easily use our platform to conduct studies based on device data.
  • We will integrate fitness data from apps Strava and RunKeeper and devices like FitBit and FuelBand.
  • Our platform is the perfect foundation for artificial pancreas research and commercialization.
  • We’d love to build an advanced decision support interface that will help people and their doctors optimize their insulin therapy. We have a prototype of this called Sonar.
  • Some device makers will choose to let us host their data and applications. For them we’ll need to expose APIs so they can access their device’s diagnostic data and let them connect directly with their customers. We hope to generate modest revenue by doing this so that we can become a self-sustaining non-profit.

Which brings us to…

How you can help?
Most importantly, we need your financial support. So far, we’ve had some very generous donors who have supported us. Unfortunately the funding that we have received up to this point is not enough to get us to where we need to be.

The good news is that we have a solid plan to generate just enough revenue to break even and become a self-sustaining non-profit, hopefully by the end of 2015. That means that you can think of your donation as an investment in the future of diabetes technology. There is no financial return on this investment since we are a non-profit, but you will definitely rack up Good Karma.

There are other ways you can help to. If you are a developer, tester or UI designer you can volunteer as a contributor to the project. Join us at https://developer.tidepool.io for more detail. If you have experience with regulatory filings, you can help us with those. It’s a lot of work!

If you want to stay in touch with us and hear about updates, you can sign up for our mailing list at tidepool.org, join us at facebook.com/Tidepool_org and follow us on Twitter @Tidepool_org.

Thanks to Kerri for letting us take the mic for a little while, and to the entire diabetes community for your ongoing support of our efforts.

#WeAreNotWaiting

Cheers,
Howard

*   *   *

Howard Look is the founder and CEO of Tidepool, a 501c3 non-profit with the mission of reducing the burden of managing diabetes through technology. Prior to Tidepool, Howard  was on the founder’s team at TiVo where he was VP of Software and User Experience. He was also VP of Software at Pixar, where he led the team developing Pixar’s proprietary film-making system, and at Amazon where he ran a secret software project to develop devices that leverage cloud services. Howard has a BS in Computer Engineering from Carnegie Mellon University. His teenage daughter has T1D.

You Look Tired.

“You look tired,” someone said to me, rather casually at a meeting the other day.

The night before, I had gone to the gym a little later than usual.

Most of the time, my workouts take place before 8 pm so I can have a handle on blood sugar fallout before I go to sleep, but this round wasn’t in my favor.  My blood sugar was 153 mg/dL before bed with no insulin on board and a stable Dexcom arrow, but at 2.30 am, my pump started vibrating and alarming madly, alerting me to a low blood sugar.  Twenty minutes of glucose tab chomping and subsequent teeth brushing.

Back to sleep.

Then, at 4.40 am, my pump starting going apeshit bananas again, this time wanting a battery swap.  Light on, battery swapped, insulin pump rewound and re-primed, where was I?  Oh yeah, a hotel in New Jersey.  Okay, back to bed.

When the alarm went off at 7 am to wake me for the meeting, I was groggy as hell.  What should have been a good night’s sleep had become an exercise in frigging beeps and whirrs.  Coffee and concealer became an immediate must.

“You look tired,” they said to me, and I shook my head.

“I’m fine,” I said, lying through my teeth, coffee in hand, happy that my child sleeps through the night, frustrated that my diabetes still doesn’t.

Cutting Back on Artificial Sweeteners.

My sweet tooth is completely jacked up.

Bypassing the dessert table isn’t a tough choice.  I can skip the brownies and pie since the Great Palette Change of 2010 (when I was pregnant and my body decided that chocolate was gross and seafood was suddenly on the approved list) and now that I’ve been off the gluten stuff since August of last year, avoiding sweet treats has been a no-brainer (because if I have gluten, my body becomes a vessel of extreme bloat – no effing thank you).

But oh holy cow do I love coffee, and the amount of sweetener I would add to a cup of coffee was abysmal.

I think my taste buds ended up a little warped as a result of drinking diet soda when I was a kid.  After my diabetes diagnosis in 1986, Equal replaced sugar in my house, and the sweet power of Equal is eleven billion times sweeter than regular sugar.  (Not entirely true – 160-220 times sweeter than sugar seems to be the information I found online.  Correct me if I’m wrong, please?)  Convincing my tongue that less sweet is sweet enough has taken some time.

Over the last few months, I’ve been actively cutting back the amount of artificial sweetener I’m cramming into my coffee cup.  At one point, I was using three Splenda in one iced coffee, and for me that felt like way too much.  So, week by week, I tried to use less.  The first few days it was two and a half packets, in an attempt to show my tastebuds that less is more.  After a few weeks, I had cut back to one packet.  (And one packet helped, because then I felt like I could let go of that matchy-matchy OCD thing.)


And now I’m using half of a packet, or sometimes none at all (depending on how nice the coffee/milk combo is).  My goal is to make “none” the new standard.

It took some time to adjust to the lack of sweet.  My body craved that cloyingly sweet taste bud burst, but weaning was the way to go for me because cutting out sweetener entirely and all at once would have been an exercise in futility.  I’m not there yet, but working to make this a “habit of less” because I’m ready to ditch sweetener as much as possible.

It’s hard, though.  Sometimes I just want to rub the contents of a packet of Truvia on my gums.  (Too much?)

Have you ever worked to ditch a habit?  How did you do it?  I think the process of weaning is BORING and if there are ways to trick my mouth into not caring about sweetener, I’d love a tip or two.

 

Chipped Battery Cap.

When you wear something every, single day, you notice every, single bit of it.  I’ve been wearing this pump for four years and I know the lines of it by heart.  (I remember the day that I switched from Medtronic to Animas and even those similarly-structured insulin pumps felt entirely different to me in weight, curve, and especially clip.  As I wrote in my Animas Vibe initial review, change can be awkward.)

Two weeks ago, I dropped my insulin pump on the bathroom floor.  It survived the fall, but happened to fall just so and smashed the edge of the battery cap the teeniest bit.  See?  (Ignore the hard knocks look of my pump overall.  I’m tough on this thing.)

Okay, so maybe it’s not obvious (I can barely see it myself, even when it’s pointed out to my eyeballs), but my hip knew instantly.  The jagged catch on the battery cap bit into my skin all day long and drove me bananas.  (The photo is not accurate as far as how the chip lined up with my skin.  The battery cap pictured is not screwed tightly onto the pump.  When it’s on right, the chip faces my body.)

“Do you feel this?”  I asked Chris, running his finger over the edge of the battery cap.  “That teeny chip?  It’s making me crazy.”

“You can feel that?” he asked, surprised.

“I can.  I’m like the Princess and the Pea of insulin pumps.”  (That would make for an excessively long fairy tale title.)

The point of this post?  To illustrate how fully integrated these devices become into our lives, where we notice even the most seemingly insignificant blip.  And to also note how awesome it is when your local pump rep just happens to have a replacement battery cap in the trunk of her car.

Looking Back: Pumped for the Pizza Man.

Diabetes pops up in the weirdest places, and while the snow is falling here in New York City, I remember two summers ago, when it was 98 degrees in the morning when we woke up.  (I hate swelteringly hot weather.  Not my thing.)  Today, I’m looking back at the day the oven broke and the pizza man rang twice.

*   *   * 

The oven broke.

It took me a while to notice, because it was upwards of 90 degrees inside of my house (no central air … we will not be making this mistake with our next house), but once I realized the stove was kaput, it was about 6.30 pm and very much time for Birdzone’s dinner. While I’d like to say that I walked out to our garden and picked enough fresh green beans, tomatoes, and lettuce for a healthy salad, then followed up with chicken on the grill, with a dessert of fresh blackberries and cream, I can’t. Because I never ended up planting the garden I wanted to (too much time on the road) and we don’t have a grill (still haven’t bought one) and the frigging birds keep snaking our blackberries so, to this day, I haven’t had a single blackberry from the huge bush outside due to the aforementioned dickheaded birds. /digression

So we ordered a pizza. Judge all you want.

Birdy and I were playing in her air-conditioned room when the door bell rang, signaling the arrival of the pizza man.

“The pizza man is here!” Birdy opened her door and let in the dragon-breath heat from the kitchen, scurrying towards our front door with her yellow Batman Princess tutu flapping at her waist. (She wears pieces of that costume all the time. Even the itchy bits.) I handed her a few dollars so that she could tip the delivery person.

I opened the door and the guy handed us our pizza and drinks.

“Here you go, miss. It’s hot, isn’t it!” It wasn’t a statement, but a declaration, as the heat was undeniable.

“Yeah. Our stove broke, so there was even less of a chance of me cooking.”

He smiled as Birdy said, “Hi!” from behind my legs and darted out to hand him the money.

“Thank you … um, Batman,” he said, slightly confused but offering her a friendly smile.

“You’re welcome!” and she took off. I thanked him, and shut the door. A few seconds later, the door bell rang again. (The pizza man always rings twice?)

“Hi again. Sorry, but I forgot to have you sign the debit card slip.” He handed me a slip of paper, and as I signed it, he asked, “Do you have diabetes?”

“Excuse me?”

“Diabetes. Do you have diabetes? I noticed the sticker on your car said ‘insulin’ or something on it, and I wondered if you were diabetic.”

I laughed, surprised. “Yes, I do have diabetes. Type 1, diagnosed as a kid. Do you?”

“Yeah. Diagnosed as a kid, too.” He reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out a Minimed insulin pump. “I’ve been pumping for about six years.”

I lifted the corner of my shirt and flashed him my silver Animas Ping. “Almost ten years for me. Small world! And that sticker on my car is for Insulindependence. It’s a diabetes organization focusing on sports and exercise.”

“Cool – I’ll check it out,” he said, winding his pump tubing around his fingers as he shoved the pump back into his pocket.

“Cool.” I paused, and the words tumbled out like I was confessing. “I don’t normally eat pizza, you know.”

The pizza man grinned. “It’s like the most complicated bolus ever. No matter what, I never get it totally right.” He started to walk back towards his car, waving at Birdy. “Have a good night! Stay cool!”

Birdy appeared from behind the door. “Mawm, he had a pump, too! He has diabeedles!”

“He does!”

The diabetes world is a small, small one. Never before had I been so pumped to see the pizza man.

(Yes. We went all that way for a horrible pun.)


 

 

Animas Vibe: First (and Quick) Impressions.

Again, disclosure:  I work with Animas and have a sponsorship contract.  Here are more details on my disclosures.  I link to my disclosures more than I link to cat .gifs, which is saying QUITE A BIT.

As I mentioned, I’m testing out the Animas Vibe.  Here are my first, quick impressions after a few days using the Vibe.  (What, you wanted some long, flowery introduction paragraph?  I’m out of words.)

First things first. Change can be awkward and uncomfortable.  When I switched from Medtronic to Animas back in 2010, I had trouble with the switch not because of the pumps themselves but because of the change, in general. Wearing an insulin pump means being connected to a small box and tubing 24 hours a day, so you really get to know that box/tubing combination.  The curves and edges of the pump  became something I knew by heart, and wearing a pump that was even half a millimeter different than whatever I was used to made me grouchy.  It took me about three weeks to become used to wearing the Animas Ping pump, and about a month and a half to become entirely used to the differences in filling the reservoir, changing the infusion set, responding to alarms, etc.  (I experienced this all over again when I took the t:slim pump for a spin over the end of the summer.  The pump itself was fine but the different size/shape/process made me grumpy like this cookie and I was less accepting of the pump because it wasn’t what I was accustomed to.  This isn’t a comment on which pump is superior, but a commentary on why the learning/acceptance curve, for me, is a true curve.  It also illustrates my hate for change.)

I was set up on the Animas Vibe on 12/31, so I haven’t had this thing for more than a few days, but going from Ping to Vibe was simple in terms of learning curve because I’d already done that curve.  I have worn an Animas Ping since 2010, so the routine is familiar.  Keep that in mind as you read through my perceptions, as they are colored by familiarity.  And coffee.  (I had two cappuccinos with dinner.  TWO!!  Bees in fingers [h/t CSparl].)

CGM Integration.  I was unsure how I’d feel about integration, to be honest.  I like having my Dexcom separate sometimes, and things like CGM in the Cloud and Share are important to me because I most-often travel alone, so having my data streaming to the cloud is an important safety feature.  But, on the whole, I don’t stream my data (with overnight exceptions as noted).  Basically, I am the main person who needs access to my data.

However.  (And this is a big however.)  I like, and appreciate, options.  I don’t have the option of ditching diabetes, but I do have options on the tools and technology I use to make sense of diabetes.  I LOVE having the Dexcom data showing up on my pump screen.  Love, love, love.  Why?  Because I always have my pump clipped to me.  I didn’t realize, until a few days ago, how often I was keeping tabs on my external receiver, bringing it from room to room with me, and keeping it clipped to my purse while I was out of the house.  I went for a run the day that I hooked up to the Vibe and it was exciting to bring only one device with me.  With a tube of glucose tabs in my pocket and pump clipped to my hip, I was good to go.  It felt liberating.


The best part, for me, is that I can run my separate Dexcom receiver at the same time.  Yes, they can run simultaneously.  (No, I have no idea how that impacts the battery life of the transmitter.  Nor am I certain this is a sound idea.  But I’m doing it anyway.)  Both the Vibe and the receiver need to be calibrated separately, but for the times when I’m away for work, I’m happy I can still make use of the Dexcom Share without getting all weird. Options where there once weren’t any at all; I’ll take it.

(And I haven’t had a chance to test the accuracy of the receiver vs. the Vibe, but since I haven’t yet upgraded my receiver to reflect the 505 algorithm [we don't have a PC], I don’t know if my comparisons would be best.  Once I hijack someone’s PC and update my receiver, I’ll circle back on this.)

One concern I had about integration was whether or not I would hear the alarms on the pump.  In setting up my pump, I customized my alarms to reflect a vibration for any low blood sugars and a beeping for any highs, thinking that a vibration would be good for middle-of-the-night low warnings.  While I haven’t had much time to test the highs and lows (thankfully, numbers have been reasonable for the last few days), I did have one 2 am low blood sugar and the vibration woke me up.  I’ll have to wait a few more weeks/months to truly test how responsive I will be to the alarms.


Graphing it.

A photo posted by Kerri Sparling (@sixuntilme) on

One other concern I have is about the color indications for the different numbers.  I’m a creature of habit (see above bit about hating change) and I am used to the way that the Dexcom G4 receiver lays out blood sugars, in terms of color.  Ketchup and mustard, you know?  Highs are yellow, lows are red, and white means don’t touch anything because in range.  However, since companies cannot sync up their shit in a way that makes things easiest for end users (aka the PWD), the CGM graph on the Vibe is entirely different than that of the G4.  On the Vibe, highs are red, lows are blue, and in range is green.  For me, this has been a weird change because I like at-a-glancing at my CGM throughout the day, and now I need to readjust my mindset for what “red” means.

Screen Resolution.  This might seem ridiculous, but there’s a new feature on the Vibe that allows for the brightness to be turned up/down with a click.  The button on the edge of the pump with the little lock (or lightbulb, or whatever that icon is)  makes whatever screen you’re on brighter, or less bright, with a click. I like this more than I should, I think.

Food Database.  I haven’t used the Ping meter in a few years (I switched to the Verio when it came out, and am now using the Sync), so I haven’t done much with the food database in the past.  On the Vibe, the food database is built into the pump, so if I go in to give a bolus and use the EZCarb bolus, I can access a customizable database on the pump itself.  I haven’t had much time to play around with this feature yet, but I plan to as I fiddle around with the pump.  (One note:  on the “snack” screen, the food options are all junk food.  Chocolate cake, cannoli, donut holes, key lime pie, just to name a few.  Who categorized these as “snacks” instead of “junk food”?  Confused the small, rational part of my brain.)

To that same end about not using the Ping meter for a while now, it’s important to note that the loss of meter remote capability in the Vibe vs. the Ping did not matter to me at all. I haven’t used the meter remote option in ages, so not being able to use it with the Vibe made zero difference to me. Your preferences will vary, of course.

WearabilityFor better or for worse, this pump does not feel different on my body because it is essentially the same physical pump shape/size on my body.  Having worn the Ping now since switching to Animas, the Vibe feels the same.  But, for the record, I did try a blue pump this time instead of my time worn silver one, which feels sassy.  Also, not needing to carry the Dexcom receiver makes for a lighter purse.  (And when my purse holds glucose tabs, my meter, an insulin pen, car keys, wallet, gum, Batman, and a deck of Crazy Mates on an average day, one less thing is awesome.)

Battery Concerns.  Since it’s only been a few days, I don’t know how quickly running the CGM and the insulin pump will burn through the battery.  As it stands now, my Ping went through about one battery per month (maybe every 5 weeks), and my concern is that the Vibe will require more battery change outs.  Time, again, will tell.

Software Questions.  I haven’t uploaded my data to Diasend yet, but I’m excited to see what the overlap looks like for my pump, CGM, and blood sugar data.  My past experiences with Diasend have been good – I like the software – but I’m not the best at uploading data from my pump (read:  I never, ever do it because the process is annoying).  I’m hoping that future iterations of the upload process make it more plug-and-play instead of “hey, weird dongle.”

Overall, I’m excited about the Vibe.  (And even if you aren’t, let me be excited, would you please?  I’m appreciating the fact that this system has finally been approved in the US.)  I like carrying one less device while still using the CGM and pump combination that I trust and prefer (bias, bias, remember). 

I’m looking forward to sharing thoughts at the close of this trial period, and then moving forward with a Vibe of my own … even if the name of the product gives me a bit of a smirky smirk.

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