DeVry Creative - CyberSpeakers: Essays/Memoirs (non-fiction)

Our featured creative writing this week is a speech written by student Steve Hilton.  This is Steve's graduation speech from the 2012 Cleveland Graduation Ceremony. 

Graduation Speech by Steve Hilton ~ 2012

delivered at ceremony for Cleveland (Seven Hills) Ohio Campus

Fellow graduates, faculty, staff, guests, family, and friends:

I want to thank the University for giving me the honor of speaking to you tonight on behalf of DeVry’s graduates.  Little did I know 17 months ago when I dropped by the campus to take a placement exam that I would be standing before you today ready to graduate.  It’s funny how things work out. And that is what I would like to talk to you about today: the combination of luck and hard work that got us here today.    

Those of you who know me know that I—along with my father and one of my brothers—suffer from the Hilton disease.  Hilton disease is where you ask a Hilton what time it is, and he tells you how to build a watch! So to talk about anything for just a few minutes is a real challenge, but I’m going to try!

         The Roman philosopher Seneca is credited with having said, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.”  Funny, I always thought it was Vince Lombardi, but he—along with many others—only adopted the saying.  Opportunity is part of that equation; serendipity, that uncontrollable external force that visits us at random.  One has to be prepared to seize it because we never know when it might come.  I can handle that.  Preparation, the other part of the equation, is what brought me to DeVry University after having been out of school for sixteen years.

I completed my Associate’s degree in Mechanical Engineering in 1996, and I was done, out of gas.  I felt as if I had drained an Olympic-sized swimming pool with a teaspoon. Thirteen years to complete a two-year degree while working and raising four children. I had no plans to ever move on to a Bachelor’s degree. I was content to be a father of four and a grandfather of seven and work my seemingly secure job.

In fact, I was startled when I heard a radio talk show, with callers in their 50’s, lamenting that their two-year degrees, which had always served them well, were getting them nowhere in the current economic situation. This hit me way too close to home.  In addition, a new compensation plan at my work placed more emphasis on higher education.  Under this new system, coworkers lacking a four-year degree were being passed over for advancement.  I felt that I was not in a good place.  If an opportunity came along, I was not ready.  If I were to have any chance to benefit from Seneca’s luck equation, I would need to do my part. I needed to prepare.  That is what DeVry did for me.

My Bachelor’s degree in Technical Project Management has prepared me for opportunity when it comes knocking. My four-year degree will be my “trump card.”  In this effort, I am not really depending on pure chance to bring me opportunity either.  In my preparation I am building something more. Seneca was wise, but I further subscribe to Ernest Hemingway, who once wrote, “You make your own luck.” My experience at DeVry thus far has proved that Hemingway’s observation is also true.

               Interesting things have happened since I embarked on this endeavor.  The business of “luck making” seems to be contagious.  I explained what I was doing to a young salesman, who called on me at work recently; he seemed transformed on his next visit. “Hey, guess what I am doing?” he asked me excitedly. Without waiting for my answer, he blurted out, “I’m going back to school for my Master’s! I got to thinking after the last time we talked and I think you have it right!”

          In a similar fashion, I talked to an old friend who also started thinking about making some luck of his own.  But most importantly, my twenty-year old daughter, who is currently attending Cuyahoga Community College, is impressed with my accomplishment.  I think my returning to school at age 54 is a life lesson for her: it is never too late.  When opportunity knocks, you will have a part to play, so get prepared to play it!

          Finally, I commend us all tonight for doing our part! None of us is entitled to that pay increase, job promotion, or new position. We need to give someone a good reason to give us these things over some other deserving individual. This diploma is the start of a very good reason! We have done our part, and those of us who go on to Keller will do more. For which is sadder: never to have gotten an opportunity, or to get it and not be ready? I am betting on the latter!

 Thank You.

A submission from DeVry Student Ashley Jeampierre.

A GIFT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Ashley Jeampierre

DeVry University

ENGL112 Composition

Professor Linda Beauregard-Vasquez, Visiting Professor III

September 10^th, 2024

A GIFT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

I remember sitting on the hospital bed, that tense, desperation, restlessness creeping in again like the tide sweeping up the shore trying to grasp my toes. My mother was resting in the corner, on a pullout couch nestled under a scenic window. I turned to her, “Could something be wrong?” “My baby should be here by now.” It felt as if I’d been stuck in the hospital for an eternity, I’ve been in labor for far too long anxiously awaiting the arrival of my baby girl. I wish I had informed my doctor sooner about my strange and unusual symptoms.

            My due date was December 18^th, but a couple months of itchy limbs landed me with an intra-hepatic cholestasis of pregnancy diagnoses also known as “ICP”. Who would’ve thought, a liver condition attacked me with a desire to scratch relentlessly. I would never have thought that a liver condition could attack me with a desire to scratch relentlessly. I felt as though I had read up on enough information, spoken with doctors, and listened to other people’s experiences so much that I had it down pack. It wasn’t my first time being a new mom although older now, I never heard of ICP. A blood test and one scary phone call from my doctor is all it took for me to be admitted with an emergency induction. My baby is all I cared about and once I was told that she could be affected not only was I concerned and worried, but my family was too.

            The risk of complications could've been severe for my baby, premature birth, lung problems, and stillbirth. Although I was 39 weeks my baby having lung problems or being still born was a nightmare of a realization. When I asked the doctor how could this have happened? I had no problem with my liver before, I watch what I eat, I take my prenatal vitamin everyday on the dot. The answer shocked me, pregnancy hormones. So, my own hormonal pregnant ass double crossed me. It took forever to get pregnant, the last couple of months were grueling and when I’m almost to the finish line I backstabbed myself.

            Unbelievable, as if I’m not already stressed-out intra-hepatic cholestasis had to come knocking on my door, unfortunately, there is no cure for ICP. It tends to go away on its own after, but the doctor monitors every 3 months or so just to be safe. I thought it was just allergies, I would scratch my arms and legs profusely. If my mother hadn’t brought up my intense itching to my doctor’s attention it would’ve gone undetected. As I sat in the hospital room, I recall the TV broadcasting a singing competition, Christmas music with sweet melodies easing its way into my eardrums. I longed for my gift, my baby girl even more.

            I had gotten restless after a while and decided to start pacing back and forth across the room. I’ve taken six doses of one medication no baby yet. The nurse switches me to the next medication, this time the medication is given via I.V. The plan was to induce with a pill if that doesn’t work I.V. and if both fail a C-section would be the last, final option. Thus, why I decided to wobble my way around the room praying that my baby would arrive sooner than later.

            I was so exhausted, I didn’t sleep due to all the scratching day and night. When I laid still that’s when the itch was at its peak. On top of that my mother and I were so overwhelmed and uncomfortable at the hospital we didn’t get a wink of sleep. I’m so thankful and glad I wasn’t alone. My mother was an immense help, she made the prolonged stay tolerable. Her prayers soothed my nerves. Prior to the diagnosis I told her if anything should happen during childbirth there’s nothing to think about, no split-second decision to be had. My baby is first and thee only concern. Without hesitation she understood.

            After I’ve walked for an hour, the nurse had returned to administer the second dose. I laid back down and tried to adjust myself to semi comfort level. The itching was still bothersome but all they could give me was Benadryl and sense I was on a straight prenatal streak, I remained resilient. As I turned to my side, I saw my mother had dozed off so I thought I might as well try to get some shut eye if any. I tossed and turned as I began to dose off I felt a rush of warm liquid swarm behind me. I thought oh Lord did I pee myself? I began to call out to my mother who was so deep in sleep she wasn’t functioning properly to answer my question.

            The door swung open; it was the nurse doing her rounds. I nervously told her what had happened, and she said not to worry she’ll take a look. It wasn’t pee, my water had finally broken. My eyes widened, this is it, its finally happening. My mother shook off the grogginess, she clasped her hands and smiled with delight. The nurse had stepped out to call the doctor. I could feel my heart fluttering with joy, there I was, anxiously waiting to meet my baby girl. Little did I know my baby was finally ready to meet me too.

            I alerted the nurse using the remote control attached to the bed. Soon as she stepped in, I told her I needed to push, the baby was coming. She asked if I could wait until the mid-wife is on the freeway, she’ll be the one to deliver my baby. The nurse ran out to start preparing for my mid-wife’s arrival and that of my baby. I looked at my mom, I remember telling her I couldn’t wait, I had to start pushing. She urged me to stay calm and wait everything’s going to be ok. Yeah, that was easier said than done.

            At last, a team of nurses had walked in, and I told them I couldn’t wait any longer. The baby was ready, it was a tough spot to be in. The concoction of medication they had administered me to induce labor seemed to be working with fury. I shifted my body, shut my eyes tightly, breathed in then out, and pushed. By the second push my mid-wife had walked in. I swear by the time she got in place the third push was all it took. She placed my baby girl on my chest, my beautiful healthy baby girl.

            All that I experienced, those agonizing days in the hospital, the worrisome cries, the tense nervousness, the fearful what ifs, that insufferable itch just melted away like a soft peppermint puff. I went through a roller coaster of emotions with this pregnancy. One thing for sure is that a pregnancy journal would've been helpful to keep track of my journey. I now know not to take feeling itchy lightly, something miniscule can in fact be a major concern or issue that can at times lead to a catastrophic outcome. On December 14^th, 2023, at 3:44 pm I received a long-awaited gift before Christmas.

 

Clues

By Janet Grace, DeVry University Student

Have you ever played Clue? Was it Colonel Mustard in the Observatory with the rope? How about Mrs. White in the Library with a gun? All were answers to the clues we received to solve the mystery of “who-dun-it’?

Coding is like that, especially ICD-10-CM. We get a clue, and it is up to the coders to solve the mystery. Our first clue comes from the physician, and from there we need to figure out the case for the patient’s insurance claim. We cannot just put patient has “measles.” We have to know what kind of measles? With complications or without?

Health care professionals document the patient encounter in such a way that we can read and eventually provide a code that identifies what is happening with the patient—all without using words. The ICD-10-CM is the universal language of health care professionals.

If we follow the ten steps to correct coding, we are sure to solve our mystery:

1. Identify the reason for the visit or encounter.
2. After selecting the reason, consult the alphabetic index.
3. Locate the main term entry.
4. Scan sub-term entries.
5. Pay close attention to index instructions.
6. Choose a potential code and locate it in the tabular list.
7. Read all instructional material in the tabular section.
8. Consult official guidelines.
9. Confirm and assign the code.
10. Sequence the codes correctly.

Once we follow those rules, we are able to document for the insurance company the diagnosis for reimbursement. The mystery is solved:  B05.9 – Measles without complications.

My classes in medical billing and coding have gotten two steps harder, but with the help from clues to professors who show us how to sleuth, I intend to overcome each coding enigma with perseverance, practice, and patience.

As you can see, there is a lot to learn from a clue game that has become a critical part of our contemporary healthcare system. I am ready for the challenge and am preparing myself each day to maintain my own academic code: an A average!