Where does my logbook live?

Who owns the records is something I settled before writing the app. For years I wrote mine by hand in a paper notebook, afraid of losing the pile.

In ForMyGluco an entry goes to the phone’s database first; a dropped connection does not stop logging. The internet handles backup, subscription checks and session refresh; offline, reopening the app can show a sign-in screen needing a connection, though saved records stay put. Health records sit on EU servers in Frankfurt.

Export gives an Excel file, sections I pick, no row limit, plus a doctor report PDF summarising the last 90 days’ readings.

After a subscription ends new entries stop; Excel and the doctor report PDF stay open. I could not defend a paywall in front of exporting one’s own health data.

Deleting an account takes two confirmations; the app deletes the server records and clears the device tables. Uninstalling does not close the account; the server record stays until the account is deleted.

ADA Standards of Care 2026 says the privacy and data-sharing policy should be read before data goes into an app, and that without randomised controlled trials and validation there are insufficient data to recommend specific diabetes management apps unless they are FDA cleared. ForMyGluco is inside that second clause.

A JAMA count found 271 Android diabetes apps on Google Play in January 2014; of the 211 left six months later, 81% had no privacy policy, and among 65 of those tested, data sharing was equally common with or without one (Blenner et al., 2016). ForMyGluco is not in that sample; the numbers say nothing about it.

Only a doctor can say what the numbers mean; treatment decisions are theirs. At my appointment I will ask: “Which part of these records helps you?”