Slow

"I would slow down with inner peace," a friend of mine reflected after receiving his first speeding ticket. As he carried on the conversation I found myself feeling more connected with his story.

On my way to hospital this morning, I was reading the news about a possible coronavirus outbreak after healthcare workers carried out resuscitation of a patient. After what seemed like a run-of-the-mill lifesaving treatment, the staff found out that the patient tested positive for the coronavirus and they were not fully donned with personal protective equipment - something we knew was a true no-no. On the other hand, it was not the first time we take safety shortcuts when we're in a hurry for something.

When I related the news to other doctors by text messaging, I was entering the isolation ward. That's an area with negative pressure system. Thus I had to enter an additional door at the ward entrance, installed to create a buffer zone to stabilize the negative pressure inside the ward. As usual, I took my staff card to activate the access control. This should have taken me only a fraction of a second to open the automatic swing door. But not this time. Before I'd even thought about a defective door, I gritted my teeth to wait, and wait. Standstill.

The truth was that the hospital administrators had recently adjusted the automatic door hold-up time. In the end I had to wait longer and slow down. My face reddened. "Having a time-out is harder than I'd ever imagined."

I wish I could say that, after all the stories, I was fine with a slower pace, but that would be lying.