Not sure how I missed Adam Posner's hand hygiene poem, but I did. Truly sorry. To make it up to you, I've pasted the poem below. We all have crosses to bear, although I'm not sure hand hygiene rises to that level. Of course, I am not JAMA nor am I Adam Posner. Truth.
Ode to Dry Hands
It always happens in the winter
with constant washing my hands splinter.
Even if I use gel and lotion
skin becomes sandpaper in motion.
Fissures open, the knuckles turn red
a few times my hands even have bled.
How it stings me—such irritation!
The stigmata of sanitation!
Yet, I still say as the water pours
“Let me clean my hands, then I’ll shake yours.”
It is a soapy cross that I bear
an important way to show I care.
For as a doctor I know this much
first do no harm starts with the first touch.
h/t Mark Vander Weg