Stefany Shaheen - Elle & Coach: Diabetes, the Fight for My Daughters Life, and the Dog Who Changed Everything

I was so scared. I actually thought that I was going to die.

Elle, age 12

I t was the Friday after Thanksgiving. We had already stuffed ourselves in the company of our extended family that Thursday, and we were counting our blessings as we set off on what we hoped might turn into a new tradition. My husband, Craig, and our four young children all piled into the minivan for two nights at the Mount Washington Resort, a historic grand hotel in New Hampshires White Mountains, nestled at the foot of the Northeasts highest peak, with sweeping views of the entire Presidential Range. There was a chance for some fresh snow along with the warmth of an indoor pool, a promised visit from Santa Claus, and a plan to go pick out our Christmas tree that Sunday before we headed home. With Craig and I both working full-time, it was the first vacation wed taken in ages, so the anticipation was palpable and the excitement radiated from all but one of us: my oldest daughter, Elle (which we pronounce Ellie). She did not share our enthusiasm, and I could not understand why.

Out of all the kids, Elle had always been the people pleaser. She had turned eight two months earlier, and I could hardly recall a time in her life prior to that September when she wasnt full of positive energy.

Elle was born with bright blue eyes and the biggest dimples anyone in our family had ever seen on a baby. Its as if shed been smiling before she greeted the world. By the age of two, she started singing for anyone who cared to listen, dancing on tabletops or in the living room after insisting that we move the coffee table. A classic extrovert, she lived for applause, acceptance, and affection, whether it came from an audience of her parents, her teachers, her siblings, or perfect strangers. As she got older, she would often help clear the table or clean up her room without complaint, the first time we asked. She was loving and sensitive and cooperative. Our Elle. She wanted to make the people around her and the people she loved happy. Yet that night, on the way back to our room after a wonderful dinner complete with ice cream and capped off by a movie, Elle insisted that we all go swimming.

We cant tonight, Craig said. The pools closed, but well go in the morning.

No! Elle shouted. I want to go swimming now!

She was belligerent. There was no reasoning with her. Our younger children accepted the reality almost immediately. After all, there was nothing we could do about the fact that the pool was closed. But Elle wouldnt let it go. The insolence wasnt like her.

For months she had seemed a little off to me, but I could not put my finger on what was wrong. She just wasnt herself. Ever since the start of the school year, she would cry at the drop of a hat, and when we asked her what was going on, she would say, I just dont know what is wrong with me. I tried to convince myself it was a phase. She was getting older. Girls go through things. But it wasnt just tears and occasional mood swings. She started to struggle so badly in her math class that we received calls from her teacher. She wouldnt focus, her teacher said. She was fidgety. She frequently left to go to the bathroom. She kept complaining that she couldnt see the board, even after we moved her to the front row, and even after a routine eye exam confirmed that her vision was fine. She did poorly on her tests, too.

Wed never been called by one of her teachers with a concern, ever, until that fall. I just wasnt sure what was going on with my little girl.

Craig, my athletic husband with prematurely gray hair, who had long ago earned the nickname Silver Fox, wondered if she needed more time outside. Hes someone who truly believes that fresh air, exercise, and time in nature can cure almost anything, so he used that gorgeous New Hampshire fall as a perfect excuse to get all four of our kids out in the sunshine as often as possible. Annah, our green-eyed athlete; Caraline, our brown-eyed budding comedienne; and William, the baby of the family, who had dimples just like Elles, kept their summery, sun-kissed skin and rosy cheeks all season. So did Elle. It didnt seem to make a difference, though. Shed be fine one moment, then sobbing or snapping at her siblings the next.