Saturday, half past seven in the evening.
Tom Ash and I had popped out for a couple of hours.
Basher, five, running a temperature, 38.2.
Your mum, Eljabieta, was minding the children.
And your mum goes to the drawer for the fever syrup.
She picks up my phone,
the one with the children's medicine reminders set on it,
because it had just buzzed.
And on the notification, before she'd opened anything,
one line.
Warning. Allergy to this medicine. Basher.
Hello. I'm Tomasz Schuster. I built the Mojapteczka app.
And what Isas just described actually happened.
And today I want to take that one scene apart.
Because it had me wondering straight away.
How did the phone know Basher was allergic?
It didn't.
You knew.
Three weeks earlier.
Well, yes.
Because Basher came out in a rash once after ibuprofen.
Only slight, but the paediatrician said it plainly.
Write this down.
It's an allergy.
Keep it on record.
And you did write it down.
In the app, against that medicine,
there's an option, flag allergy.
You put in Basher ibuprofen.
That's all.
I remember.
It was literally a few seconds in the waiting room.
I open the medicine,
tap flag allergy,
choose Basher,
type in the substance,
and done.
And that's the whole trick.
Because if it were ten screens and a form,
nobody'd do it right at the moment
they've got a poorly child on their lap.
So the app didn't diagnose anything?
No.
And that's the most important sentence
in this whole episode for me.
The app doesn't decide that someone's allergic.
The doctor did that,
and a person typed it in.
The app only remembers,
and reminds you,
at the moment,
it's easiest to forget.
Right.
But here's the bit I don't get.
The box your mum reached for
was a completely different brand
from the one that gave Basher the rash.
Different name,
different logo.
How does the app know it's
the same medicine?
And this is my favourite part.
Because the app doesn't look
at the name on the box.
It looks at the active ingredient inside.
You record the allergy against ibuprofen,
and ibuprofen sits in several different boxes
under several different brands.
The app peeks underneath.
If it recognises the same substance,
it flags it,
whatever the brand on the box.
So, a different box,
the same substance.
Exactly.
And it's no small thing,
because that's exactly
when it's easiest to slip up.
You buy something for a temperature
under a new name,
and you don't connect it in your head
with a rash from a month ago.
Because I wouldn't have connected it.
The rash one was in a pink box,
and the one from the drawer,
white,
different company.
To me,
they were two different medicines.
And to the app,
they were one substance.
But honestly,
there's an important word here.
Recognises.
It's not magic.
The app matches
on the name of the substance,
and on its code,
if it knows it.
It tries its best,
but it's not a guarantee
for every possible way
it might be written in the world.
So, it doesn't let me off
reading the packet?
It doesn't.
It's a second pair of eyes,
not the only pair.
It's still you looking at the box.
The app just raises a hand
when it recognises something.
Right.
Now, tell me honestly.
If it's that clever,
does it know
everything that's dangerous for Basher?
No.
And I really want that to land,
because it's an honest limit.
The app warns about
exactly what you entered,
and about the same substance
in other boxes.
But it doesn't guess
about whole families of medicines
it hasn't been told about.
Meaning?
Meaning,
if you enter one substance,
the app won't assume on its own
that some other,
related medicine
is dangerous too.
Joining those dots
is for the GP
or the pharmacist.
The app doesn't pretend
to be them.
So it doesn't second-guess the doctor?
It doesn't.
And I'd rather it left something unsaid
than made something up
and gave you a false sense
that it's all been checked.
A modest truth
beats a confident mistake.
Right.
That does sound honest.
Because most apps
do the opposite.
They fake a certainty
they haven't got.
And there's a second honest thing.
The app will never
block giving a medicine.
The rule's simple.
Warn.
Don't block.
Hang on.
Why doesn't it block?
If it can see the allergy?
Because sometimes
you've got a good reason
to keep a medicine for someone.
And the doctor decided that.
The app isn't there
to make decisions for you.
It's there
so you make that decision
seeing the warning.
Not with it off to one side.
So it's not looking to stop me
just to make sure
I don't miss it.
Nicely put.
That's exactly it.
So back to that Saturday.
Because there's something here
that really got to me.
Your mum saw the warning
on the notification
before she'd even
gone into the app.
Yes.
And that's the newest thing
I added
in the latest release.
Because there used to be a problem
one a user reported to me.
What was it?
That the allergy warning
was visible in the app.
Against the medicine.
On the list.
In the reminder.
But the notification itself
showed only the medicine's name
and the dose.
Not a word about the allergy.
So if someone didn't go inside.
They might not see it.
And a notification is exactly
the moment you're not in the app.
You're standing in the kitchen.
The child's got a temperature.
The phone buzzes.
So I moved the warning
to the very top of the notification.
First thing you see.
And it stays there.
Even if someone snoozes
the reminder for later.
And on a locked phone.
Can you see it too?
That depends on your notification preview
setting on the phone.
The app doesn't decide that.
The system does.
If you've got previews on.
You'll see it even without unlocking.
I don't override that.
The point is.
The warnings in the notification itself.
Not tucked away deep in the app.
And with the name.
With the name.
Warning.
Allergy to this medicine.
Basher.
So it's clear who it's about.
Because that's the second thing
hardly anyone thinks of.
Right.
How does the app know it's about Basher?
Not Leon.
Because allergies are attached to the person.
Everyone in the family has their own list.
That was Basher's allergy.
On Basher's reminder.
If the same reminder were for Leon.
Who doesn't have that allergy.
No warning would come up at all.
Hang on.
So the same medicine.
The same shelf.
Two children.
And the app behaves differently for each of them.
Differently.
Because it's not asking.
What medicine is this?
But who's this reminder for?
And does that person have this allergy?
Leon gets a clean notification.
Basher.
One with a warning.
So the warning follows the person.
Not the medicine.
The person.
And it's not the app deciding the medicine's dangerous.
It only shows that you recorded a warning against this person.
And not against another.
And now a real life question.
That evening our kitchen might have had no signal.
What then?
Nothing changes.
The warning works off what's saved on the phone.
It doesn't need a network.
It'll work even if you're in the cellar.
Or out at the allotment with no signal.
And if I'd entered the allergy on my phone.
And you were the one with Basher.
That's because we share one family medicine cabinet.
When you save something on your phone.
I've got it on mine.
It syncs between our accounts.
Including if I deleted the allergy.
Including a deletion.
That one was a separate boring bit of work underneath.
Making a deletion on one device really vanish on the other.
Rather than come back like a ghost.
But that's a topic for another evening.
I'll take your word for it.
There's one more thing I want you to mention.
Because it's not just the notification.
You mean the report for the GP?
Yes.
Because when I take Basher to the doctor.
I don't remember everything anyway.
Allergies go right to the top of the report you can show or send to the doctor.
Split by person.
So the doctor doesn't have to drag it out of you in a rush.
It's there in black and white.
Right at the start.
Because you know how it is at an appointment.
Five minutes.
The child's crying.
The doctor asks allergic to anything.
And in all that stress you remember half of it.
Exactly.
And it's not that the report replaces that conversation.
It just organises it.
The GP still decides but starts from a written list.
Not from your memory under pressure.
And one more thing I've seen.
When I tick off that a dose has been given.
For a person with an allergy.
The app asks you to confirm you're aware of that allergy.
That's the one moment it's a bit more insistent.
Because giving a dose is the most serious step.
So again.
It doesn't block.
It just makes sure I've seen it.
The same sentence all the way through.
The app is memory.
The knowledge is the GP and the pharmacist.
You know what got to me most about that Saturday?
That it wasn't the phone that saved anyone.
It was that three weeks earlier I'd taken a few seconds to write something down.
And the app handed it back to me at the one moment it really mattered.
And that's exactly what I built it for.
Not to be cleverer than the doctor.
So that what you already know doesn't evaporate on a feverish evening.
Then tell people where to find it.
If you'd like to give it a go, that's the Moya Pteczka app.
The app is free and works offline.
You'll find the link in the episode description.
And if you enjoyed the episode, share it with someone whose medicine cabinet at home is chaos.
One more thing before we go.
This podcast is made with the help of artificial intelligence.
I wrote the dialogue myself, but the voices you're hearing aren't ours.
They're AI-generated synthetic voices.
We're telling you this straight out because we think it should be the standard for any podcast made this way.
Full details are in the show notes.
And in every episode description.
Until next time.