Implementation and Design, Add Wine

*Content warning: This blog discusses and contains images of insulin pump, continuous glucose monitor (CGM), and blood sugar values, which can potentially be upsetting in relation to personal diabetes challenges. Please be advised of this before reading further.

I recently made the leap of faith to Tandem’s t:slim insulin pump with Control IQ software, and my mind is totally blown by all this tiny machine does akin to a normally-functioning pancreas each hour. Many others have chronicled their positive Tandem experiences, and at a later time I hope to join them with further blog posts. But the more pressing theme begging me to be written is one of design. Taking Stanford Medicine X training to heart, I’ve employed a discerning eye in the pros and cons of this pump from a user experience and design perspective.

Assumedly, the brilliant computer and biomechanical engineers at Tandem had their reasons for how they manufactured and coded this insulin pump. I’m not here to argue against their science, as this pump has already been life-changing in my own n=1 study within a few short weeks. I do not know if they consulted with any focus groups of people with diabetes in their creative processes, and I cannot falsely purport to represent everyone else’s opinions here. So with those disclaimers, for what it’s worth, here are my implementation and design 2 cents:

The Big Picture Design Pros:

If People magazine ranked the sexiest medical products on earth, this pump would be up there, just saying.

Having Dexcom tied right into the pump is not only helpful from an algorithmic, insulin-dosing standpoint. Simplified, it is one less clunky thing to carry. I still sometimes reach for my old Dexcom receiver out of habit, only to realize that now one small device clipped to my belt or slipped into my jeans pocket is simultaneously running the insulin show and serving as my Dexcom screen. (See also the diabetes online community (DOC) for enhanced pump clip suggestions!).

The algorithms…

provide far more input than any human being can possibly do each day. I plan to blog about the emotional aspects of this pump in the future, but to briefly convey it here- this concept has given me a level of peace after three decades’ worth of managing my own diabetes. People with diabetes are handed blunt instruments and routinely yelled at by society and medicine to essentially, “Just dose insulin and achieve ‘perfect’ control (which doesn’t exist, by the way), and no matter what happens, it’s all your fault!”. Watching this pump adjust my basal rate 32 times and microbolus twice, just in an overnight timeframe, to keep my blood glucose at a stable, safe line really hammered home how innovative this technology is, how much I wish everyone worldwide had easy, affordable access, and most glaringly, that what we have asked people to do for decades was never remotely possible. We tried our best, but we just plain can’t kickstart a faulty pancreas 32 times overnight, every night, forever.

Infusion sets

While I wish there had been more opportunities to test drive infusion set samples prior to the official pump start, I finally rationalized that kinked cannulas were one additional worry I did not need when returning to pumping after a long hiatus. Tandem’s TruSteel sets have been a breath of fresh air in terms of trusting that insulin is being delivered fully and properly, and the pain of having a needle set under the skin for a few days is negligible thus far when compared to the searing pain of needle-into-muscle from the past / competitor sets.

Built-in safety checks and balances

I feel comfortable that this pump will not accidentally bolus insulin in my sleep or if jostled in a crowd due to the many safety mechanisms included. The prompts explaining the basic steps involved with a cartridge and site change are helpful, too, as extra reminders of when to detach from the pump and what should happen next.

What I Would Change:

Again, see the disclaimers above. I am not saying Tandem did not have reasons for their current designs. But from a user point of view, I hope they will consider consulting with patient advocates and trying new ideas in future models.

Place the most important data in larger text on the screen!

My eyes are still functioning fairly well for my age, yet I am often frustrated by the pump’s tiny displays of numbers, which really matter in the diabetes experience. In my opinion, the Big Three are current Dexcom reading, insulin on board (IOB), and the amount of insulin being dosed via a bolus when applicable. To add a fourth option, current basal rate number would be helpful to have displayed upfront on the home screen, too.

Particularly when a bolus is occurring, the text at the bottom of the screen is far too small. I’d recommend Tandem take away approximately 1/3 of the Dexcom graph space on the home screen (the pink sticky note space in the example photo below), and use this bonus area to incorporate larger font for the data more frequently relevant to people with diabetes. For example, while it’s cool to see my blood sugar graph from the past 3 hours, I’d rather swap in some extra clicks to get to that particular graph than constantly have to jump to other screens to see my current basal rate or time of last bolus. Sacrifice that Dexcom graph space to personalize what the user wants to access easily in future models.

I’d additionally recommend inserting a “Favorites” option at the bottom of the home screen, similar to saving tabs in a web browser, in which the user can input screens they turn to often. For example, my personal preference is to go back in the History display and analyze boluses from the past few hours, which may inform how heavy a bolus I take now. Other users may find helpful meaning in Dexcom chart data from the past 12 hours, and wish to access that tab faster. If users could implement their own Frequently Utilized sort of list for themselves, this simplifies the diabetes management process even more so than this pump already does. At the end of the day, when people with diabetes are still piloting this plane, all of the little clicks and taps we make add up over time. How might we respect further design autonomy in future models?

Training / Communication

I can only speak for myself, and I want to be clear that this is not a gripe against the knowledgeable, compassionate Tandem representatives I spoke to many times over the phone, nor to my individual Tandem specialist trainer who calmly assisted in making this process doable and has been kind in yielding questions and checking in as needed. They are working within a larger, broken healthcare system and trying their best with what they have.

Yet I must express, the pump start up process was haphazardly piecemealed together and poorly communicated, particularly when obtaining initial supplies and making appointments. If not for the navigational persistence garnered by my professional and educational background in healthcare, I’d probably still be at Square One without a pump. I made dozens of calls between Tandem, suppliers, and the Endo clinic, babysitting, “Okay. XYZ is done. What’s the next step?” And many times no one seemed to really know. This bureaucratic disorganization delayed the actual pump start date for weeks.

Many of us have thirty or ninety days’ worth of supplies worked out with insurers and suppliers. We are being asked upfront to spend hundreds of dollars on large orders of infusion sets which may not end up being best for our individual case, for example. Or then the Endo clinic prescribed many boxes of infusion sets but not enough cartridges. The general oversight has been lacking. If not for kindhearted members of the DOC and friends already using Control IQ, I would have been even more lost as I sorted out initial tips and tricks for an ideal pumping experience.

Endo clinics and major diabetes industry names and so on do not have to like me or consult directly with me, per se. But that said, the wisdom of the lived experience is so valuable. (If you believe in real patient advocacy, reimburse such expertise accordingly, by the way). I would be happy to be hired as part of a focus group on formulating a more comprehensive, linear implementation training guide to help clinics, pump companies, and diabetes patients, alike, in safely and successfully getting situated on a new pump. (If your company is interested, feel free to leave contact information in the comments on this page and I will email you back). And again, if not me, please consult with other patient advocates. I am sharing oodles of feedback here because I want people with diabetes to have the best quality of life and health that we can, but a good company will not just take such ideas and run away; this work involves deep, meaningful engagement between all parties.

Cartridge fills / site changes

No matter how many years I’ve been away from pumping, I still grimace on site change days- not so much in terms of acute pain from the needles involved, rather due to time, inconvenience, and complexity. I’m not the first to note that Tandem’s process is tedious; my user guide is Post-It-Note-tabbed to pertinent instructive chapters, which I read at every site change. I’m using “site change” interchangeably with “cartridge change” here, but the latter part is actually the burdensome aspect.

While Tandem’s “inject air into the insulin vial, remove air from cartridge” routine does seem to make a difference in terms of maintaining insulin efficacy within the pump, the cumbersome tools and learning curve to get there could use improvement. The miniscule white cartridge hole where one must insert a ginormous needle to spray hundreds of units of insulin is daunting when first using this pump. What if I accidentally stab my own thumb?!, I can’t help but think each time. Assumedly there are biomedical designs here to keep the insulin clean and secure via the small cartridge hole, but this is an area to seek change. Additionally, many official training videos skip over the actual filling the cartridge with the needle part, but this aspect is so important if we are to avoid air populating the cartridge inadvertently.

Supply Adequacy

The inherently poor design of our American “healthcare system,” by nature, is responsible for this critique. Third party suppliers, diabetes companies, and even healthcare providers’ prescriptions nowadays mainly opt to allot the exact amount of diabetes supplies, with no wiggle room for the inevitable rainy day mishaps. When in doubt, call customer service, they proclaim! Prompting those of us in the trenches to wonder, “Have you ever waited on hold listening to the seventeenth string symphony orchestra practice squad on speakerphone while working fulltime to pay these bills?” Yeah, we didn’t think so.

Companies would save time, and I’d even argue, some money when all comes out in the wash, if they provided even a few spare infusion sets or Dexcom sensors over the course of one year, rather than perpetuating negative experiences when life happens and we need more. Surviving with not one extra centimeter by which to breathe is fundamentally unjust to the customers with health conditions padding these companies’ pockets. Put your customer service energy elsewhere, do the right thing, and eliminate this problem by conceding at least once per order that something may go wrong, but you’re going to own that as a dependable company and provide a back-up option.

Emotional Support

We hear about the transition for Service Members coming home after combat tours and experiencing a tough readjustment to the civilian world. Their guard has been on high alert for months, and now we expect them to just jump back into mowing the lawn, holding down an office job, or socializing at a party, as if the traumas they endured and witnessed never happened?

Although this pump has rocked my world already, there has been an emotional element which I am still similarly processing. On shots, I got accustomed to trying so hard each day and not really witnessing the fruits of that labor very often. The long-term outlook was so grim that I couldn’t even visit there in my mind. Time would eventually just stop, probably.

So I found myself sobbing when a provider recently asked me to go there, to try to imagine a different, better course with the help of this pump. I need more time to heal fully, to reacquaint myself to the light of a calmer world. Such a good thing still hurts because of the tender scar tissue.

Healthcare clinics should at least have this concept on their radar, particularly when training patients who have never pumped before or are returning from sabbatical. These fancy new pumps are jaw-droppingly good at what they do, and that isn’t a bad thing. But the shock and awe mean something, too, and we should strive to optimally support people with diabetes in these next chapters.

Disclosures and disclaimers:

I own Dexcom stock, although this truthfully has no effect on my ultimate aim of improving quality of life for all people with diabetes. No matter what, my feedback will always be candid.

I wrote this blog on my own volition, and although I hope the diabetes industry will listen, these views and ideas are solely my own.

Use diabetes medical devices at your own risk and based on guidance from your medical providers.

This blog is not exhaustive and surely there is more food for thought to come.

Trauma-Informed Advocacy

Healthcare talks (not enough) about trauma-informed medical care, which is summarized best by what its name so states.  But what about trauma-informed advocacy?

This could easily become a dissertation or a thesis topic, and, fair warning, I may pick your brains in the future if/when I pursue another grad degree.  In the meantime, if you want to read a dissertation, or even a SparkNotes version, on trauma research, you have to put in the hours.  For those interested in learning more, some recommended starting points would be to look at how trauma is clinically-defined, to read the DSM V PTSD diagnostic criteria as examples, and so forth.

Just as physical health can impact mental health and vice versa, so, too, can trauma.  For example, we know trauma changes us on a cellular level, is linked to autoimmune disease, and can negatively influence mental health.  This can, in turn, greatly diminish an individual’s quality of life, while also hurting society (lost work production, etc.).  For years I have been preaching that trauma is a public health crisis that costs us so much- financially, emotionally, physically- and this article wowed me in how well it articulates those points.  While not all trauma is preventable, much of it could be prevented/lessened if human beings simply treated one another better, and if healthcare provided more opportunities to cope well.

But, for today, this blog post is fodder to perhaps get us thinking about our advocacy.

Not every person, nor every advocate, has experienced trauma.  Yet, when I have looked around the room at healthcare events in the past, I have seen the battle scars of those who may have publicly or privately disclosed their painful histories with us.  Admirably, advocates have chosen to help others, to be intellectually curious, despite their own hardships.

Havoc-wreaking health conditions. Bloody medical procedures. Abuse and/or neglect. Poverty. War. And, sadly, the list could go on much longer.

We may have been brought together, on Twitter or at a conference, for example, because of our mutual interests in healthcare-related topics.  And yet, I often find there is another common denominator in the room: trauma.

Diabetes fireside chats often ask: Which came first, the diabetes or the depression? (Or perhaps, a little of both?).  Knowing what we do about the health effects of trauma, this theme remains prevalent.  Trauma often begets trauma.  Maybe workplace harassment trauma triggers an autoimmune attack, and then the difficult reality of living with a chronic physical health condition compounds, molding trauma upon more trauma into a teetering Lego castle of human life.

I recently tweeted that in educated adulthood, I often find myself wondering about the manageability of my own diabetes if the inflammatory effects of trauma history were not involved (i.e., would type 1 diabetes, an autoimmune condition, be more tamable without trauma?).  Probably.  In layman’s terms, cortisol is released when stressed, leading to insulin resistance, and around we go.

The “five types of diabetes” headlines are all abuzz recently.  Yet, I believe that there are much more likely to be 5 gazillion types of diabetes, all manifesting across a spectrum that caters to our individual genetic makeup, environment, and so on. This includes our traumas, or lack thereof. Just as other major autoimmune diseases go through times of “flares,” so does type 1 diabetes, in my opinion (and despite our reluctance to use the term). Trauma can potentially be the cigarette lit by the gasoline tank, and it is not far-fetched that this could set diabetes aflame- a “flare” going off in the night.

While I will surely be critiqued for my subjectivity here, I can tell you that behind closed doors many big wig diabetes doctors have entertained, and even suggested, some of this material. Recognizing that trauma may make my diabetes more wily, at times, does not mean that I am giving up or copping out.  It has actually provided my healthcare providers and I with some much-needed peace (which, I might add, can positively affect emotional health and blood sugars, and don’t we love how complex this all is?!!!). We can forgive ourselves for the moments where we do everything “right” and the outcomes remain frustrating, and we can draw a more practical game plan moving forward. Although the scenario is not ideal, there are options instead of dead-ends.

The truth is, no one knows exactly the impact of every minutiae of each diabetes story, or healthcare story, or an individual’s overall life story, and we probably never will.  But is that any excuse for our healthcare ecosystem to lack supportive resources for folks withstanding the tough stuff?  How might we provide quality, holistic care earlier, and better?

Some other Stanford Medicine X (#MedX) Scholars and I tweeted aloud on this idea: What would our healthcare stories, and current health experiences, be had trauma support been different? And, if our healthcare stories were different, how would the larger fabric of our stories as humans be changed?

We unanimously agreed that, at the very least, life would have been easier physically and emotionally.  Having that validation that it is okay to hurt, and to seek proper support for what you know is real, can be the difference between being stuck in the quicksand of an overwhelming health condition, or keeping one’s head afloat.  I can only speak for myself, but groupthinking about this was incredibly powerful and a lot less scary than Ally-alone-thinking inside my own skull.

If there is a MedX reunion in the future (please!!!), I believe it would speak volumes to collectively gather as advocates initiating this conversation from such a platform.  This does not mean that everyone would use a megaphone to discuss things they may not be comfortable sharing.  Far from it.  Rather, I imagine us simply standing together in unison, acknowledging the common denominator of trauma-truth that is so often overlooked in healthcare.

So, today, I wonder aloud again.

Without trauma:

What would my diabetes be?

What would my mental health be?

Who would I be?

Would I even be an advocate?

Will there be a day when the common denominator in the room is our access to equitable opportunities and resources to achieve our potential, to live full lives despite whatever we have endured, and to feel supported?

What would our society look like, then?

Are we really okay with the current status quo?

How might we talk more about this?

Are we listening?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*This post was updated after the original publication for clarity purposes.

Ah-Ha!

Video of our 2016 Stanford Medicine X panel, Ah-Ha! moments in mental health and chronic disease management, can be viewed here.  The panel speaks for itself; it was brave to participate; it was brave to be a member of the live audience- at Stanford and/or online; it is brave to watch the video; it is brave to reflect on mental health and chronic disease management.

Many thanks to Charlie, Danielle, Sarah, Mark, and so many others in the MedX family for making our 2016 panel such an empowering and enlightening experience for so many.

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Photo credit: Stanford MedX Flickr

 

Featured image photo credit: Mark Freeman

Before #MedX

Last year’s Stanford Medicine X (#MedX) took place during the same weekend that I created my diabetes blog, Very Light, No Sugar. I was new to the internet blogosphere in September of 2014, and I spent much of my time that weekend soaking it all in.

This exists?! THIS! These concepts that have been bouncing around in my head for so long have a place and a name and a community?! Perhaps I can be part of it? Everyone seems friendly and cool! YES!!!

These were my initial thoughts as I perused the blogs of the diabetic online community (#doc) and followed the #MedX hashtag as ePatient delegates and other MedX attendees tweeted live from the conference. I later watched videos of the MedX 2014 speeches, read blogs of MedX alums, and visited and re-visited and re-visited some more the 2015 ePatient application portion of the Stanford Medicine X website.

I made the rookie mistake of writing 1,000-word answers to the MedX application instead of providing 1,000-character responses as instructed. Upon discovering this issue, I stripped my answers down to the core of why I felt so passionately about this conference and improving healthcare, and I finally clicked “submit” late one evening. Fast forward to now- about five weeks away from MedX 2015- and I could not be more excited to be an ePatient delegate this year and to share the information absorbed at the conference with all of you.

MedX is so special because it takes the “What if’s?” and does not shy away from them in fear.  Rather, MedX imagines and creates the possibilities.  MedX connects the respective patient, provider, and technology dots of the healthcare equation by putting them all together at the same conference.  They are allowed to work together, to dare to dream big, to share the positives and the negatives of their personal healthcare experiences, and to learn from one another in the process.  Recognizing that healthcare is an ongoing evolution, MedX keeps the conversation going before, during, and after the conference.

Many MedX alums have noted how much their lives were positively-influenced by attending MedX. With the conference just around the corner, I find myself keenly aware that this is the “before” stage for me. I study healthcare, work in it, live it through my experience as a type one diabetic, and have moments of inspiration and frustration along the way. After attending MedX from September 25 through September 27, 2015, I will gain a viewpoint that covers a vast array of healthcare experiences- those of other patients, those of providers, and those of technological gurus and innovators in the healthcare field. This will be the “after” stage. I already know that this opportunity is a blessing beyond what I can imagine right now, and I am so very thankful to get to attend MedX 2015.

I am most excited about learning from different perspectives while at MedX. Although I know a lot about diabetes because I live with it, I recognize that healthcare goes far beyond insulin injections and endocrinology. At MedX, there will be industry leaders discussing breakthroughs in technology, ePatients who have battled brain tumors or acted as caregivers for their loved ones, and providers who put their patients’ best interests first and foremost. Taken together, all of these contexts are a valuable asset to improving healthcare as a whole.

The fellow 2015 ePatient delegates to MedX are a great crew of people, as are the Stanford Medicine X administrative team and advisory board. MedX participants come from diverse backgrounds, encounter different health obstacles, and have unique experiences from which to draw from. Yet we share an unspoken comradery before even having stepped foot on the Stanford campus. We have put ourselves out there online because we believe wholeheartedly in improving healthcare. We advocate for better access to care, more open dialogues amongst all members of the healthcare equation, promising futures for those who endure our respective disease processes, and more. We know the feelings of joy on the good days and pain on the bad days, and we maintain hope that the best is yet to come in the future. MedX provides the perfect environment in which to work hard towards these goals and to be a part of the conversation about improving healthcare.

For more information on Stanford MedX, please visit medicinex.stanford.edu.

 

Disclaimer: I have received a partial scholarship to attend MedX as a 2015 ePatient delegate. Opinions expressed here are strictly my own.