Of Sensors and Suitors: A Most Curious Arrival

Dearest Gentle Reader,

It is with a measured sense of interest that I report a new suitor of the ton has entered the ballroom of diabetes technology. One bearing a respectable name, and yet… one that has not quite set the room alight.

The house of Accu-Chek presents its SmartGuide CGM, and while society is rarely shy in its appetite for novelty, this author finds herself… unexpectedly unenthralled.

You see, dear reader, in every season there emerges a singular figure. A presence so dazzling, so irresistible, that all eyes turn, all whispers gather, and a title is bestowed.

The Diamond.

Let it be known at once: this is not that device.

It is not without charm, of course. The SmartGuide promenades into society with perfectly acceptable credentials: fourteen days of wear, five-minute readings, and accuracy that sits comfortably within the expectations of polite company (a MARD of 9.2%). It is, in every measurable sense, entirely proper.

And yet… one cannot help but feel a certain restlessness.

For while others glide effortlessly across the floor, this particular suitor requires… constant reassurance. A ritual of calibration, no less. One must call upon it with finger pricks at carefully chosen moments, offering one’s blood as though presenting a calling card at precisely the right hour. Indeed, one must first endure a brief period of polite observation (Trend Mode) before being summoned at the twelfth hour for the initial offering, upon which one is finally admitted into Therapy Mode. A second, confirmatory call between 30 minutes and 3 hours later must also be made. Fail to do so, and it retreats back into Trend Mode, as though refusing to engage in meaningful conversation. One can scarcely be expected to keep such a demanding schedule, particularly when other suitors require so very little to remain agreeable.

Elsewhere, members of the ton have grown accustomed to devices that ask very little. Devices that simply arrive, attach, and proceed without fuss. Here, however, Accu-Chek proposes something different. A relationship that expects participation. This author is exhausted at the mere thought.

And then there is the matter of intelligence.

Yes, this suitor whispers of foresight. It claims the ability to anticipate hypoglycaemia before it arrives, to sketch the outline of one’s glucose future, to keep a quiet watch through the night. Admirable qualities, to be sure.

But let us not be swept away.

It advises, but does not act, for it has yet to form any meaningful alliance with the pumps that might carry out such interventions. One might enjoy having such a presence on one’s arm… but when an episode of hypoglycaemia approaches, it will offer only a warning, leaving one to deal with it personally – a most unfashionable requirement.

There is also the delicate matter of means.

This suitor arrives without the patronage of the NDSS, and thus requires a considerable investment to entertain its company – a bold choice for one that has yet to distinguish itself as indispensable.

And so, dear reader, we find ourselves observing a most curious arrival. Not scandalous. Not sensational. But perhaps… sufficient. Which, in a season hungry for brilliance, may be the highest praise it can reasonably expect. One cannot help but look instead to the houses of Abbott and MiniMed, where whispers of more compelling arrivals yet to promenade this season have already begun to circulate.

Yours in ever-watchful consideration,

Lady Sugardown

For any member of the ton inclined to inspect this suitor’s credentials more thoroughly, the house of Accu-Chek has laid out the full particulars on its product page.