Three Bears

Humanity

CJEM 2012;14(2):133

Three Bears

Three Bears, did once, a story tell

To ears so young and keen.

A tale of threes, a sweet blonde belle

In the comforts of between.

When read again, in years gone by

A different rhyme was heard.

Why, life it tells! I quickly cried,

The likeliness absurd.

For Goldie learns the lesson told,

One printed in our books.

Too little or much will certainly fold

The body's gobbledygook.

So firmly held, a cellular need

For homeostatic right

That any tinker with this creed

Will leave a man in plight.

Our damsel finds three bowls unclaimed

And puts them to the test.

Too hot, too cold; the first two named

The middle one was best.

Fitness, food, and red wine too—

How much would I suggest?

Our guidelines echo through and through

The middle dose is best.

Three Bears, three chairs, a kitchen scene,

Each stool a different height.

One hard, one soft, one in between;

The last one fit just right.

The sickest go to ICU

In the middle of the night

For fluid, MAP, PaO2;

The target range is tight.

The Bears had beds, three in a row.

A choice was quickly made.

The first too high, the second too low;

The third did not dissuade.

The organs bathe in bloody brew

Of acid, base, and lytes.

In flanks the kidneys taste the stew

And keep the salt just right.

The body knows the Three Bears well,

And as Goldie will subscribe,

Too high, too low does sinister spell;

'Tis balance that gives the vibe.