MORE THAN 200 million people on this planet worry about the same invisible villain: their blood glucose. High, low, just right? For many of these diabetics, it’s a medical version of Goldilocks that entails four or more blood-test finger pricks a day and a jab in the thigh with a needle full of insulin at mealtimes. It’s a drag and I should know—I was diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic 30 years ago. At the time my father thought to himself, “She’ll be cured by the time she’s in college.” I’m now well beyond college age, and not only do I still have diabetes but I still use (basically) the same hardware and medications.

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