What it's like to have the machine that keeps you alive die while you're on vacation | Laura Michet's Blog

What it's like to have the machine that keeps you alive die while you're on vacation

28 May, 2026

I'm about to tell you a story about the major disaster which affected much of my decisionmaking on my week-long vacation to Santa Fe. I just got home to LA, and the situation is now resolved. But it was super fucking annoying!!

I didn't mention it in any of my other posts because I was waiting to learn how it would actually resolve.

I know a lot of people whose lives depend on access to medicine. I know fewer other people whose lives also depend on the machinery and software used to dose that medicine. Insulin pumps, pacemakers, and other crucial, always-on medical equipment are crazy useful but also contain the possibility for insane frustration and resentment. I've been pretty honest over the years that I value having an insulin pump, but that I also hate the manufacturers and designers of every pump I've ever used. If you introduced me to any person who has ever designed an insulin pump I've used, I would probably punch them in the face and cuss them out in front of their children. Every single pump I've used as caused me massive problems - though none as bad as the one I'm about to describe.

It is not possible - for me, anyway - to have a neutral, positive relationship with the machinery that keeps me alive. Every problem it has is an indignity and an insult to me. Anything it does that irritates me is a sin. Universal healthcare would make my life easier, for sure. But the irritation I feel whenever I have to deal with a pump problem will never go away until diabetes is cured.

Until then, the people who design, sell, and service these machines are both keeping me alive and also my mortal enemies. I think that this is an inherent effect of being dependent on a tech company to stay alive. You can treat the following story as a window into what that experience is like for a patient.

If you work for the company that made the pump I'm about to complain about: I fucking hate you, and I hate your pump. This is the deal you made when you decided to make machinery that keeps me alive.

There's no way out of it for either of us; it's just the dynamic we're trapped in.

Though I'm trapped in it much more than you are, aren't I?

How diabetes works<br>I have type 1 diabetes - the type of diabetes you get when your pancreas stops making insulin entirely. It's also called "juvenile diabetes." T1 diabetes cannot be controlled with diet or lifestyle changes - it can only be controlled by taking insulin injections multiple times a day.

Type 1 diabetes is "insulin dependent." If you don't have the insulin, you sicken and die. Going without insulin for even a few hours can make you very ill. You'll need both a basal dose of insulin acting on you 24/7, as well as bolus doses to cover the digestion of any food you eat. Insulin performs a kind of last-step role in the digestive process - it's the hormone that allows your cells to absorb energy, in the form of sugar, from your bloodstream. So running out of insulin is a Bad Time.

How my pump works<br>To get insulin into my body, I use an insulin pump paired with a continuous glucose monitor. My pump is a Tandem tslim X2, and my CGM is a Dexcom 6 (though I have to swap to the Dexcom 7 this month, because Dexcom is ceasing production of the older model I use). The Dexcom checks my blood sugar every couple of minutes all day long. It sends this information to my pump, which then decides whether to give me my regular dose of insulin, a lowered dose, or a higher dose. If my blood sugar is too low, I get less insulin; if my blood sugar is too high, I get more. I also have to tell the pump when I'm eating, so I can get that "bolus" dose to cover my food.

Every time I go on vacation, I have to ensure that my pump keeps running so I can stay alive. I do this by bringing about two times the number of supplies I need for the time I'll be gone. Supplies for my pump include not only insulin but also the disposable plastic medical waste my pump generates - in this case, the needles and tubes that connect my body to the pump. My pump has a disposable plastic cartridge that holds the insulin, a disposable tube that goes into my leg or torso, and a disposable quarter-inch metal needle that sits inside my skin all day long, held in place with a sticker patch.

I also need a big nasty syringe to inject insulin into the cartridge - I suck insulin out of the vial with this giant syringe, then inject it into my pump like I'm performing some kind of science experiment. It makes me look very Frankenstein if I have to do it in a restaurant.

Preparing to go into the desert<br>I'd be gone in Santa Fe for about seven days, so I brought about fourteen catridges and around twenty of those big-ass needles. I brought about ten or twelve "pump sites", the needle that goes into my skin. I brought two...