It's just a machine, it's not a cure.

Insulin pumps are pretty amazing things.

Marshall got his first pump in 2007, just a couple months before Ollie was born. He was hesitant at first; he didn’t like the idea of being tethered, he didn’t like the visibility of it, and he was quite comfortable with MDI (multiple daily injections) as he had been doing since his diagnosis at 16. He decided to give it a try, and we figured worst case, he could always go back to shots.

There was a definite learning curve to the pump. There are alarms and tubes and you’re always having to find a place to clip it. Sometimes it’s easy to forget to bolus, because now you don’t have to actually take shots each and every time; but other times the constant reminder that you are tethered to this medicine can be overwhelming. Many people with Type 1 choose not to use insulin pumps for various reasons. For us, they work great. Most of the time.

But they’re not a cure. Because without insulin, a person with Type 1 will die. End of story.

Pumps are just machines. Smart machines. But they’re not failsafe.

There was the time when, in the middle of the night for no apparent reason, the pump just stopped delivering insulin. “NO DELIVERY” is the message you see on the screen, with no further details of how long this has been happening. Sure, there’s an alarm that accompanies this warning, but it’s not loud enough to wake a child, and not loud enough to wake me up down the hall. This has happened at least 3 times. Going even a couple hours without insulin (because the pump is still delivering micro doses of insulin 24 hours a day to maintain normal life functions, this is called “basal insulin”) could send them into Diabetic Ketoacidosis, a potentially deadly situation. This is just one reason I still wake up at least once a night to check on them.

Pump sites will randomly get jammed, and the only way you find out is by a skyrocketing blood sugar. The port that is inserted into the body has a small cannula that remains under the skin (think: I.V. catheter). If it gets inserted properly it’s straight and insulin can flow freely from pump to body. If it gets kinked, no insulin will get into the system and blood sugars and ketones will climb. This can be very dangerous. This has happened multiple times to the kids and Marshall.

Then there was the night, just a month ago, when Walker accidentally ripped her site out while she slept. The pump unclipped from her pajamas, she got twisted in her sheets, and her pump went one way and she went another. That was a fun 3am site change by headlamp.

We have a drawer full of batteries, just in case. The new pumps especially burn through batteries quickly, and you can’t use rechargeables. No battery, no insulin.

Door knobs and seatbelts are notorious for snagging pump tubing. And I’m told it’s painful too.

And then there’s Moxie. Moxie is our cat, who we have discovered, likes to chew on wires and tubing. I can’t leave any circular knitting needles out on the counter because Moxie will chew them in half. Thankfully I now have bluetooth earbuds, because Moxie also likes to chew headphone wires. And anytime Marshall or the kids “disconnect” to get in the shower they have to make sure Moxie is not in the room. Because Marshall found this out the hard way. Twice. Damn cat. I wonder if insulin tastes as strong as it smells?