Once upon a midnight dreary, making rounds while I was weary,
Jealous of the quaint and curious volume of beds galore,
While I texted, smartphone tapping, suddenly there came a rapping,
(Not the music, but like slapping) – slapping from my disk drive door.
Vainly how I searched the keyboard for the button marked “restore,”
I could not find the restore.
“What,” I wondered, “could it mean, this storm-tossed night of Halloween,
To be caught and in-between, rock and hard place in this venue.
’Tis ransomware or a virus rattling my hard drive door?”
Mouse in hand, I knew that when you fear this you must pull down “menu,”
System menu for restore. Point and click and then restore.
That would fix it. Nothing more.
The EMR refused to boot. My anxiousness became acute.
Vainly I could not discern nor guess if I were running Cerner,
AllScripts, Epic or McKesson. If I could I’d learn my lesson. I would learn it to my core,
For the system to restore. Pulling plugs and cords and more,
Unplugged, plugged in, no restore!
Vaguely I recalled the haven, for our IT guy named Raven –
Willie Raven, IT maven, lonely on a silent lower floor.
I would quickly text or phone him. He would surely swiftly zone in,
On my growling, growing IT war. He was hardly ever shaven, unkempt on his lower floor.
I must call him to my door. I must beg and call him for,
His assistance to restore.
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Willie Raven, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I am calling, on my knees toward you I’m crawling,
Close to tears and nearly bawling. Please, the EMR could you restore?
With IT I’ve no rapport. Come and help me to look for,
System menu and restore.”
Willie Raven I’d caught napping, but he came up, fingers snapping,
Tall and whistling by my narrow office door.
“Willie, sir, you’ve my accord, come and take this poor keyboard,
Judge me not, do not abhor. With IT my mind is poor.
Please, our EMR restore. Only that and nothing more.
Find my password in the drawer.
Deep into the gray screen peering, Willie Raven sat there, leering,
No doubt dreaming dreams no IT guy had ever dreamt before;
Though he found my keyboard tricky, and my mouse was frankly sticky,
From the Twinkie I had bought next door. With a minute to explore,
Willie Raven clicked “restore.” Hostess wrapper on the floor.
Twinkie goo and crumbs and more.
Then the EMR rebooted! And the nurse’s lounge we looted,
For the doughnuts from the day before. Toasting Willie with my cruller,
Night was so much better, duller, with the system back as days of yore.
Then my eyes began to mist, and I could not long resist,
To ask if this might ever happen more. Have to have him come restore?
Quoth friend Willie, “Nevermore.”
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