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Except when she's going out for a night of fun. Take the other evening when she donned a long, blond curly wig and went out to a fast-food restaurant with friends. Staging an argument with them, she yanked a fistful of her girlfriend's hair. In turn, the girlfriend grabbed Deiah's head of locks, ripping off the wig. As her strikingly white bald head is exposed, Deiah screamed and all the girls ran out the door.
Then the thespian teenagers came back in the restaurant, took a bow and calmly resumed eating their burgers and fries.
"Humor - you've got to keep your sense of humor," said Deiah, who couldn't have made it this rough first year without hers.
A year ago on April 25 she was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia.
"I'd been feeling really fatigued and getting tired easily. Plus, I had lower back pain that hurt so bad it felt like the pain was inside my bones. On top of that, I had a cold I couldn't shake and I would get these strange bruises overnight," said a 5-foot, 9 1/2-inch Deiah, who lost down to 105 pounds. She went to the doctor, who ran a series of tests.
"When Earl (her dad) came home early that night, we knew something was wrong," said her mom, Pam. "He's a doctor and he never gets home early."
Turns out when the pathologist got Deiah's results, he immediately alerted her dad.
At the same time her dad walked in one door, her brother, Joshua, walked in the other door. "It was so strange, everybody arriving at once. I knew something was wrong," said Deiah.
The very next day the family drove to Duke Hospital for extensive tests and a bone marrow biopsy. "It was the first time I ever had to stay in a hospital," said Deiah, who spent an initial week there.
Tests confirmed that Deiah had acute lymphocytic leukemia, which is derived from the Greek words "leukos," meaning "white," and "hamia," meaning "blood." ALL results from an acquired genetic injury to the DNA of a single cell in the bone marrow.
The effects are uncontrolled and exaggerated growth and accumulation of cells called "lymphoblasts," or leukemic blasts, which fail to function as normal blood cells. Another effect is the decrease of the production of normal marrow cells. This leads to a deficiency of red cells, platelets and normal white cells in the blood.
In Deiah's case, as in most cases, doctors can't pinpoint the cause of her leukemia; however, doctors suspect that high doses of radiation and exposure to infectious or toxic agents can cause leukemia.
Most patients are treated by chemotherapy. The goal of chemotherapy is to bring about a remission where there are no leukemia blast cells in the blood or marrow. In remission, normal blood cell production is restored and blood cell counts return to normal levels.
"When I heard the word 'chemo,' my first thought was, 'Oh, no, I'll start barfing,'" said Deiah, who hates throwing up. Although she has been nauseous with her chemotherapy, she only threw up one time - and that's when she didn't take her medicine.
After her initial one-week hospital stay, Deiah traveled bi-weekly to Duke for treatments before switching over to the Pediatric Oncology Group at Mission-St. Joseph Hospital in Asheville.
"Deiah's immune system was really suppressed, so we felt very fortunate that she could do her treatment as an out patient and not be so exposed to hospital germs," said her mother.
Deiah has a ven-o-port under her skin, about the size of four quarters stacked up, "That's where they stick the needles in,' said Deiah, who has made it through the first year - always the toughest part of treatment. Now the continuation phase begins.
"Even as hard as it's been, I wouldn't change it. It matured me and made me get my priorities in check," said Deiah, who has no time for pettiness. "Teenage gossip - like who said what or who broke up with who - just doesn't interest me anymore."
She has a new circle of friends - friends her same age who are also undergoing chemotherapy. "One day I can cop an attitude and they'll say, 'We understand; it's the chemo working,' and they know just how to handle me."
A "chemo chick" with her own web site, Deiah is constantly online with others battling leukemia. They meet frequently at various camps sponsored by the American Cancer Society.
"Deiah has a great support group from our church (Church of Christ), too. Wednesday, the anniversary date of her diagnosis, one of our church members invited her to his restaurant for lunch and gave her a box of chocolates. That really made her feel special," said her mom.
Pam, whose father died of leukemia, feels lucky to be a stay-at-home mom who homeschools her daughter.
"I've always been close with my mom," said Deiah, "but now we're really close. Before I used to worry about talking to my mom about some things, but now I'm blunt - I just blurt it out."
"Her friends comment how dramatically she's changed and grown," said Pam. "She never liked to spend the night away from home before, but now she goes regularly to the special camps with her friends. She used to be afraid to ride in clear elevators, and now she rides in them without a second thought."
"I used to live in my own little bubble. I was afraid of germs and carried hand sanitizer with me at all times, as well as disinfectant," said Deiah. "But now I teach snotty-nose, 2-year-olds in Bible class at night and love it. Oh, and they love my bald head."
Deiah listens to the doctors and understands what leukemia is doing to her body. "I feel so sorry for the little ones who have this disease but are too young to understand what's happening to them.
"I only have 82 more treatments, then COOL BEANS!," said Deiah, who never concentrated on "Why me?" Her philosophy is, "You can't change the past, so don't dwell on it. Move forward and do what you have to do."
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