Imagine having to tell people how important it is to wash one's hands frequently. In order to highlight this first step in personal hygiene, we now mark Global Handwashing Day.

When did we start needing to be reminded of something as basic as this? Didn't we grow up hearing our parents ask the inevitable question before each meal or after playing outside? And we knew what our answer should be, never mind if there was an element of deception involved. For example, the washing of hands might have been a cursory exercise involving minimal use of water and soap.

Since I have always been mesmerised by the ritual of washing hands in TV hospital series, I am familiar with the details of the lengthy process. This knowledge came in handy when we were inundated with advice and instructions on the proper way to wash our hands. Noting the time taken for this exercise, not to mention the amount of effort it involved, I demurred at first, unwilling to waste precious time on going through this innumerable times a day. After all, I reasoned, I only had 24 hours at my disposal and this repetitive action would eat into that chunk of time.

Realising how obdurate people can be, the health sector began bringing in the heavy artillery. We were informed of the risk of dirty hands spreading pathogens and highly-resistant bacteria. Horrified at the onslaught of pictures of doom and gloom, I began to take the matter more seriously.

That's when I began to recall the scenes in scrub rooms which had always held a morbid fascination for me. Hadn't I watched with interest the lengthy prepping by doctors before surgery? And wasn't imitation the sincerest form of flattery?

Soon I was spending an awful lot of time in the washroom. If you think about how many surfaces your hands come into contact with during the course of a day, and the hordes of germs waiting for a pick-me-up, it's enough to make you shudder and make a beeline for the closest tap.

The sight of tissue paper wrapped around door handles in washrooms by other equally paranoid people is a constant reminder of the deadly enemy we are dealing with. Everyone seems to be suffering from an obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Green actions

In those hospital series I have seen taps left running while hands and arms undergo a thorough scrubbing and conversation flows as freely as the water. But I cannot indulge in the same luxury. There are constant reminders to cut down on our use of water. Mindful of this advice in the interest of coming generations,

I begin with very ‘green 'actions. The soap is applied and a lather created with a few drops and then I get down to the nitty gritty. Somewhere along the way there is a memory lapse and the water is allowed to flow freely over each centimetre of skin on each digit until I am convinced that all the spots are out. This is when I empathise with Lady Macbeth and understand perfectly her obsession with spots.

I leave the room using the backward motion I have seen so skilfully employed in those hospital series, arms at an awkward angle as I try to avoid touching those dreaded surfaces.

However, I find myself letting loose an expletive or two as I misjudge the distance and find I have backed myself into a corner. Somehow it looks so much easier on screen.

To underline the fact that there's no justice in this world, I receive a rude awakening via my Dewa (Dubai Water and Electricity Authority) bill. I find I have been ‘promoted' to a higher slab and the consumption figures seem almost as long as my new IBAN number!