Insulin Pumps: Designed by men, for men?

Though my insulin pump is not a common piece of technology, for me it’s an integral part of my day-to-day life and the first thing that comes to mind for me when I think of technology (after the usual suspects of computers, smartphones, TVs etc.).

What’s an insulin pump?

For those of you who don’t know, an insulin pump is used by Type 1 diabetics (and occasionally type 2) to deliver insulin. There’s a few different models on the market, but the Tandem t:slim is the one I use:

t:slim insulin pump

This particular pump is relatively new–it just became available in the United States about a year ago (and I only got it myself about it two months ago).

My history with insulin pumps

I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes about four and a half years ago, and almost immediately started on the Medtronic insulin pump:

Medtronic Insulin Pump

The first time I realized how much of a pain it was to wear with anything other than pants (which have belt loops and pockets to which the pump can easily clip on) was my high school prom. I had to order a James Bond-esque velcro leg pouch to wear my pump. Given that it would have been unseemly to hike up my floor-length dress to get to the pump on my thigh to make adjustments, I had to excuse myself to the bathroom everytime I needed to bolus (inject insulin for carbs I consume or to adjust for a high blood sugar). I hadn’t yet discovered my now often-used trick of clipping the pump to the arm hole of a sleeveless dress. My insulin pump has become a permanent accessory that I have to take into account every time I purchase and wear clothing. Sometimes I rip out a few seams of a new dress to make a discrete hole through which I can thread my insulin pump tubing. Other times I simply won’t purchase an item because I can’t figure out a way to wear my insulin pump with it in a way that is both comfortable and convenient.

Who designed insulin pumps?

In reading Sue V. Rosser’s chapter “Using the Lenses of Feminist Theories to Focus on Women and Technology,” I began to wonder about the design of insulin pumps. As you can see, the old insulin pump I was on looked like a beeper–in fact, that was what people often mistook it for. My new insulin pump is more aesthetically pleasing (and I’ll admit, that’s part of the reason I switched) with a color touch screen that makes it more likely people will mistake it for a phone. But both pumps are meant to be worn the same way–clipped onto a belt loop or pants pocket. While this works great for my brother, who also has type 1 and is a pumper, it’s rather difficult for me given my penchant for skirts and dresses. In reading the article by Rosser, I began to wonder–were women involved in the design process of insulin pumps? If they had been, or had been more involved, would the insulin pump have been designed differently?

Insulin pump aesthetics 

In the infancy of my diabetes, I never really worried about the appearance of my insulin pump, or “hiding” it–as many diabetics do. It’s most convenient for me when it’s easily accessible–which usually means in plain sight. Sure, it got a bit tiring every now and then explaining that no, I was not a hipster with a beeper, just a diabetic. But after wearing an insulin pump for about a year, my attitude started to shift. It began when a Facebook friend commented on a picture of me saying something along the lines of “stop showing off your pump.” The tone of the post is still a little unclear to me–though it was meant in jest, in my mind, there is no way I was “showing off” my pump. It’s a part of me almost as much as my actual (though annoyingly underperforming) pancreas. Then I was involved in a focus group for the pump I have now, the t:slim, which was not yet on the market. At the time they were considering including a second optional pump that would be much smaller–small enough to fit in your bra, for example–that would be remote controlled. “No way” I said at the time. But if they asked me today I’d say “YES–wonderful!” It’s not because I want to hide my diabetes (as the writing of this post should make abundantly clear). Rather, it’s the physical convenience this option would offer me, and yes, a worry about the aesthetic appearance of my pump. Since that Facebook comment I have become increasingly self-conscious of my appearance with the pump, often catching myself thinking that is “ruins” an outfit. I’m not alone in this–I recently read a blog post by a diabetic whose husband told her she’d look “cute” with the pump to alleviate her worries about its appearance.

Tubing-free and remote controlled! But…it’s ugly. Why I don’t use the Omnipod

Alas, Tandem ended up not offering this slimmer remote-controlled pump they mentioned during my focus group. There is a remote controlled pump on the market however–the Omnipod:

This pump might help solve some of my problems regarding coordinating my pump with an outfit, as it’d be easy enough to hide under loose clothing and I could operate it via remote. But talk about aesthetically unpleasing! I already struggle with self consciousness about the site of insertion for my insulin pump, and the sores and scarring left behind on my stomach. I can’t imagine rocking a bikini with the Omnipod on, or the awkward bulge that would appear under tight-fitting shirts and dresses.

Taking feminism too far?

For those of you thinking I’ve taken this feminism thing too far–I’m AM a bit worried I’m overreaching here. Maybe the current insulin pump design is just simply the most convenient for the most people, and gender has nothing to do with it. Maybe men struggle with the appearance of their insulin pump and clothing coordination too. But when I compare myself to my brother, it seems he has a much easier time, and is much less worried about the appearance and design of his pump. Perhaps this is simply a function of the increased attention placed on women’s appearances as compared to men’s. Regardless, it would be great to go shopping for clothes and not have to wonder “how would I wear this with my pump?”