“So far, this trip’s been fun —
oh CRAP, my flight’s at one!”
Buttercup ran out the door,
and then abruptly hit the floor.
“Are you okay?!” the waiter cried.
“I had thought you almost died!”
Buttercup was in lots of pain,
but she couldn’t miss her plane.
“Please,” she said, “I need some wine;
otherwise, I should be fine.”
Buttercup finally arrived.
She was glad she had survived.
Phish greeted her at the gate,
shocked to see her in such a state.
“Buttercup, are you okay? Would you like to eat some hay?”
“Can you take me to urgent care? I’ll probably feel much better there.”
The doctor came in with a big grin,
until he saw Buttercup’s shin.
“You needed surgery yesterday,
we can’t delay your hospital stay!
Let’s get you to the operating room
before you meet an untimely doom.”
Dr. Claw prescribed 60 pills,
then said, “There’s no need for refills.
In case your pangs will not desist,
these pills will last while they persist.”
“Just hold your horses!” Phish angrily cries.
“Sixty pills could mean someone dies.
No one should have that many drugs,
not thugs, pugs or my uncle Doug.”
“Is that so?” Dr. Claw retorts.
“Lots goes on here, things of all sorts.
Pills, insurance fraud, long prescriptions,
detailed bills beyond description!
I’m not being catty — this would make anyone batty.”
“If something goes wrong fixes take too long,
and if systems go down patients suffer and frown.”
“There’s patient records, furthermore,
medical history, data galore —
but keeping tabs on who sees what
is near impossible, tut tut tut.”
“HIPAA-hating hacking hippos will probe,
for a peak behind your hospital robe.”
“If you knew what they do with just one glimpse,
you’ll want to walk with a permanent limp.
Bad actors steal everything,
just to live like a rich king.
They’ll sell your information to an evil rogue nation,
or steal your prescription which cures constipation.”
“If we’re unable to monitor our environment,
those hacking hippos can put us in retirement.
They might commit all sorts of fraud,
while pretending to be Aunt Maude.
There is no privacy,
when there’s data piracy.”
“At stake are electronic health records, which those hippos sell for big rewards.
They may hold your data ransom, unless your Bitcoin transfer’s handsome.
And then to HIPAA, hippos say ‘bah!’ while they’re plotting in the spa.
They’ll hack your medical device, not caring whose health pays the price.”
Buttercup was feeling stressed;
who knew hospitals could be such a mess?
Her stomach suddenly began to hurt,
the rumble was heard through her shirt.
“There, there,” said Phish,
“You need not care.
I have a solution
that I will share.
There is a special way to see data:
I’ll tell you about it now — not later.”
“Splunk is a special kind of platform,
that can onboard data to perform.
You can search, detect and investigate,
to catch hacking hippos before it’s too late.
You can ingest data from any machine.
I know, I know that sounds extreme.”
Cat gave Buttercup a pill for her belly
that was starting to get really smelly.
The doctor said, “Splunk sounds like a winner.
Now Phish, want to join me for dinner?”