I’m just a soul whose intentions are good: so I want to start this post with a heartfelt and sincere disclaimer: this post is NOT having a dig at any
group or individual, although I would fully understand if anyone felt that way.
I don’t do tribalism, and I think
it is one of the saddest aspects of the contemporary world, not least here in
the UK, that we seem to have become increasingly polarised and tribal. I feel very
strongly about the political issues with which our country is struggling right
now (autumn 2018), but I recognise and understand that others feel equally
strongly the other way. And I still feel that in almost any situation, what
unites is stronger than what divides, especially if you take the time to sit
down, listen and empathise.
Such is the situation with
diabetes. There are times when attitudes to diabetes can seem very “tribal”, and in the years in
which I have connected with other people with diabetes online, I have seen many
instances where there are clear divisions in how people feel about their
condition and deal with it. Such divisions are often implicit and overlooked,
but on occasions they come to the surface and result in the same sort of
hostility and tribalism that afflicts politics, religion, sport, fashion - everything,
in fact.
So why the disclaimer and long
preamble? Well it’s because this post seeks to speak up for those living with diabetes who choose, or indeed are compelled by circumstances, to manage
their condition without any technology beyond insulin pens and a device with
which to monitor their blood glucose level. People for whom an insulin pump,
let alone one combined with a DIY application to create some sort of artificial
pancreas, is either an unreachable dream or simply something they don’t want or
need.
I am, with one important
exception (more of that later), one such person: I read the admirably enthusiastic and learned tweets and posts about diabetes tech with a paradoxical mixture
of fascination and indifference. I am fascinated by what can be done, by what
others have achieved through their own enthusiasm and expertise, yet not interested in embracing it for myself. I am on multiple daily insulin injections, always have been,
and whilst I would “never say never”, it is hard to envisage a situation in
which I would ever be offered, let alone accept, an insulin pump.
My diabetes story is largely one
of being “perfectly well, thank you” - to the extent that for the first fifteen
years or so of living with diabetes, I largely downplayed it and did little to connect
with the world of diabetes beyond my own immediate needs. However, once I
started to talk to and meet with others living with diabetes, my eyes were opened to
how things could perhaps be different, and it suddenly seemed to me as if
everybody else was either on a pump or trying to get one. Having become
friends, online and real life, with other Type Ones from all over the UK, Europe
and indeed the world, I have at times felt quite the dia-luddite in a group of
pumpers, watching in awe as my friends discreetly tweak controls, check numbers
and change cannulas. Some of the conversations I see or hear leave my head
spinning, and when I recently saw the fabulously comprehensive online dictionary of diabetes technology, I realised just how little of it is
of any relevance or even interest to me.
But therein lies the reason for
my writing this post: I sometimes feel that the very fact that there is so much
to discuss and enthuse about in the world of pumps, CGMs, looping and APS means
that those of us who are happy and well with injections just sit quietly in the
corner of the dia-room feeling left out, stupid, or both. We even feel perhaps
a little guilty that we can’t be bothered (for that is in many ways how I feel)
with anything more than a couple of pens, a monitoring device and a basic knowledge
of how food and exercise affect insulin requirement.
So what is the exception to which
I referred earlier? Well of course, it’s my enthusiasm for something that can
tell me more than a snapshot of my blood glucose level, obtained at the cost of
some pain and inconvenience. And for me, that is, of course, the FreeStyle
Libre flash glucose monitoring system.
I have said this in a previous
post, but I well remember at the first real-world meet-up of people with
diabetes (#PWDC15) when Lis Warren, a veteran of 50 years’ experience of living
with Type One, told a group of us that continuous glucose monitoring had been
the biggest single leap forward in managing her condition. She said that CGM
was the one thing that she would have been prepared to “mortgage her house” to
get her hands on. Now a lot has changed since 2015, most notably with the
success of Abbott’s flash monitoring device leading to its admission to the NHS
tariff, but I think that there is an important point to be made here,
particularly since my own enthusiasm for Libre might seem to be at odds with a
post which appears to eschew diabetes technology.
My point is this: there are many
who have criticised the Libre and questioned its admission to the NHS tariff,
citing inaccuracy compared to “true” CGM, and its lack of alarms (which will to
an extent be addressed by the forthcoming Libre 2), but to me, this is precisely
the point. FreeStyle Libre is a good fit for my ”keep it simple” approach to diabetes management.
Yes, it is indeed a relatively low-tech piece of tech, with self-evident limitations,
and that is why it has been adopted, relatively quickly, by our cash-strapped
NHS. I can’t afford a “true” CGM, and neither can the NHS.
So what am I saying? Well I guess it’s
me being my usual equivocal self. I want to speak up for those who manage
diabetes the “old fashioned” way, using injections, and in the UK at least that
is still the vast majority of Type Ones. Let's not forget that, particularly as the online world of #GBDOC might
suggest otherwise. However, I also want to stress that even for those of us who
embrace a low-tech approach, there is room and need for a little technology in
our lives. But not so much that it takes over our lives. In the end, I’m really
not very interested in diabetes.
There, I’ve said it: but please, Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood. There should be room for technophiles as well as technophobes: pumpers, loopers, prickers, injectors and even flashers (!) have their place in the world of diabetes management, and those who can afford the cost and time have a right to choose that way for themselves or indeed for their children. But those who prefer to keep it simple have a right not to feel left out or guilty.
We all have our own way of dealing with this complex and demanding condition.
There, I’ve said it: but please, Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood. There should be room for technophiles as well as technophobes: pumpers, loopers, prickers, injectors and even flashers (!) have their place in the world of diabetes management, and those who can afford the cost and time have a right to choose that way for themselves or indeed for their children. But those who prefer to keep it simple have a right not to feel left out or guilty.
We all have our own way of dealing with this complex and demanding condition.