We Took Apart an Omnipod 5: What’s Inside an Insulin Pump?
Have you ever wondered what’s actually inside an insulin pump?
We did.
And this time, our son’s curiosity gave us the chance to find out.
An Omnipod 5 that had already reached the end of its use became the center of a little experiment at home. Pablo wanted to know what was inside that small device he wears on his body and that has become such an important part of our family’s life with Type 1 diabetes.
So, together with his dad, he got to work.
And they took it apart.
Completely.
What we found was much more fascinating than we expected.
First… What Is an Omnipod 5?
For someone who doesn’t live with diabetes, an insulin pump can sound pretty complicated.
So, let’s keep it simple.
People with Type 1 diabetes need insulin because their bodies no longer produce the insulin needed to regulate blood sugar.
For many years, one of the main ways to get insulin was through injections.
Insulin pumps changed part of that routine.
The Omnipod 5 is an automated insulin delivery system that uses a small device called a Pod. The Pod is worn directly on the body and delivers insulin through a tiny cannula placed just under the skin.
And unlike many traditional insulin pumps, there are no tubes connecting the Pod to the body.
But the Omnipod story started long before the Omnipod 5.
The first-generation Omnipod was introduced in the United States in 2005. Nearly two decades later, in 2022, the FDA cleared the Omnipod 5, a much more advanced system that can work with a continuous glucose monitor to automate part of insulin delivery.
And that’s where the technology gets really fascinating.
How Does Omnipod 5 Work?
Think of it as a small team working together.
The CGM: The continuous glucose monitor tracks glucose levels and sends that information to the system.
The algorithm: The system analyzes the information and helps determine how insulin delivery should be adjusted.
The Pod: This is the small device that contains and delivers the insulin.
In Automated Mode, these components work together to adjust insulin delivery based on current and predicted glucose levels.
Put simply:
The sensor watches. The algorithm interprets. The Pod delivers.
And all of this can happen while a child is sleeping, playing soccer, running around, going to school, or simply being a kid.
That doesn’t mean the pump makes all the decisions or that diabetes disappears.
We still count carbohydrates.
We still announce meals.
We still respond to alarms.
We still change Pods and sensors.
And we still make decisions about diabetes every single day.
But technology can take over part of the work that once fell entirely on us.
And for a family living with Type 1 diabetes 24/7, that means a lot.
So… We Decided to Open It
This is where Pablo’s curiosity came in.
He wanted to know:
What’s actually inside that little Pod?
And once we opened it, it was fascinating to see just how much technology is packed into such a small device.
Batteries.
Circuit boards.
Electronic components.
The mechanism that delivers insulin.
Memory.
And a tiny electronic “brain” that allows all of these pieces to work together.
We aren’t going to turn this into an engineering lesson—we’re definitely not engineers—but seeing it up close made us realize something we often forget.
That little device stuck to a child’s body represents years of science, research, engineering, testing, and human creativity.
From an Idea to Something a Child Can Wear
For us, an Omnipod is part of everyday life.
We see it every day.
We change it.
We check it.
Sometimes it works perfectly.
Sometimes we have problems.
Sometimes it falls off.
Sometimes we have to replace it sooner than expected.
But when you have one sitting in front of you completely taken apart, you see it differently.
You start to realize how much work is behind something that looks so simple.
And that’s when a child’s curiosity teaches you something much bigger.
The technology we use today would have seemed almost impossible years ago.
When Pablo was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes in 2021, our life looked very different.
We started with a glucose meter.
Finger pokes.
Injections.
Calculations.
Logs.
Alarms.
Fear.
Over time, new tools became part of our lives, and we learned how to use them.
Today, Pablo uses a CGM and an insulin pump that can work together.
Technology hasn’t cured his diabetes.
But it has changed the way we live with it.
I recently wrote about exactly that—how technology has changed our lives during these five years with Type 1 diabetes and why, despite everything that still needs to change, we continue to believe in a cure.
You can read it here:
That article tells the story of our journey.
This little experiment allowed us to literally see one piece of that technology from the inside.
And Then I Thought About a Cure
As Pablo and his dad explored each component, I couldn’t stop thinking about something.
For us, an Omnipod represents technology.
But it also represents hope.
Because if years ago it seemed incredible that a small device could receive information, process it, and increasingly automate insulin delivery…
How far can we go from here?
That’s the question that gives me hope.
Technology can make living with Type 1 diabetes safer.
It can make it easier.
It can help us sleep a little better.
It can give our kids more freedom.
It can give families moments of normalcy.
But we want something much bigger.
We don’t just want an easier way to manage diabetes.
We want a cure.
That’s Why Diabetes Research Matters
Every time we see a new piece of diabetes technology, there is a story behind it.
There are scientists.
Engineers.
Doctors.
Researchers.
Families participating in clinical studies.
People donating money to support research.
Organizations raising millions of dollars to help move science forward.
And all of them are part of the same story:
trying to change the future of Type 1 diabetes.
Maybe someday, a technology that seems incredible today will be considered completely ordinary.
And maybe someday, something that still seems impossible will become reality:
a cure.
That’s why supporting diabetes research matters.
Every research project starts with questions.
Could this work?
Can we make it better?
Can we make it safer?
Can we make it last longer?
Can we replace what the body has lost?
And somewhere among those questions could be the answer that changes everything.
One Small Pod. One Huge Hope.
In the end, what started as a child’s curiosity became a reminder for our entire family.
Pablo wanted to know what was inside his Pod.
And we ended up thinking about everything behind it.
Years of science.
Years of research.
Years of innovation.
And thousands of people working to make life with Type 1 diabetes a little better.
But it also reminded us of something:
If humans can create a device this small that can imitate one small part of what a pancreas does, I want to believe we can also find a way to cure Type 1 diabetes.
I don’t know when that day will come.
No one can promise it.
But I do know this:
We can’t stop looking for it.
For Pablo.
For our children.
For every person living with Type 1 diabetes.
And for the families who someday hope to hear:
“Your child no longer has Type 1 diabetes.”
Until then, we’ll keep learning.
We’ll keep educating.
We’ll keep supporting research.
We’ll keep telling our story.
And we’ll keep believing.
Because technology gives us tools.
But research can give us a cure.
Pablo’s Pack T1D
We are stronger Together.
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