In alt.home.repair, on Fri, 02 Oct 2015 17:42:14 -0700, Don Y
wrote:

On 10/2/2015 5:36 PM, micky wrote:

Who has time to wait that long. And if I have time, I still don't want
to wait.

I won't use the hot air hand dryers in public bathrooms for the same
reason, but mostly because of the noise.

The hot air dryers are more sanitary -- as are the "hospital style"
faucets (assuming they don't have Ir controlled faucets).

I suppose but I haven't been sick with an infection for years. Any
medical problems I've had have been mechanical, or my overfunctioning
parathyroid, which I don't think is caused by germs.

[Note that doctors don't typically touch the sink hardware after
scrubbing]

When I was in college, I had fantasies about med school and I joined the
pre-med club. I think the only two activities it had was matching up
pairs of members and telling them when they could go to an autopsy or
surgery. I did both.

For surgery, I met some girl there at 7 or 8 in the morning and someone
who worked there us told us where to go. The first room was brain
surgery on a child, so the table was so crowded we couldn't get close
enough to see anything, The second room had the consul general of
Sweden, who was having abdominal surgery. Now this was a famous
university with a famous teaching hospital. I don't think we had gowns
on, and I know we didn't have gloves or masks

When we walked into the room, after a couple minutes the doctors and
nurse split so we could get close. His side was maybe 8 inches or less
from me and I was leaning over, closer and closer until my face was less
than 2 feet, probably about 18 inches, from his wide open gut. No one
told me to hold my breath, but it seemed like the polite thing to do.
Finally, I feared that my shoe would slip on the smooth floor and I
would fall face first into his abdomen, so I straightened up. No lie.
That's exactly what happened. No one had warned me about anything or
told me to straighten up or stop.

Oh, yeah, we hadn't washed our hands either, except while waiting I may
have gone to the toilet and washed my hands then, but they didn't ask.

However, I was careful not to stick my hand inside him. Etiquette, you
know.

I guess since it was a top-notch school, the doctors figured we'd be
smart enough to keep our hands out of him.

I don't remember how close she got. Maybe like me but she didn't bend
over much. And each organ was a different color, just like in a drawing
of the abdomen. This was before anyone cared about minimally invasive
and the open area was as big as a dinner plate, or maybe a square in
which a dinner-plate-sized circle could be inscribed.

And this wasn't the 19th century. It was about 1965.

Some of the hot air driers use a focused sheet of air to sort of "squeegee"
the water off your hands, instead of evaporating it.

But, all of these fall down because you still have to (typically push)
open the door (that everyone else has handled before you!) to exit
the bathroom! (wiser move is to use a paper towel to dry hands; then
use that towel to open the door, discarding it AFTER opening the door)

I've heard this. If I make it to old age, I may feel more vulnerable
and try harder to stay well.