Yesterday in an email, Terry The Canuck, while describing a past medical conference, stated the following:

The best story out of the Infectious Diseases Society of America was about 15 years ago, when a doctor stationed medical students in washrooms at the meeting to observe how many delegates washed their hands after they... you know.

After they picked their noses?
Checked how their deodorants were working?
Murdered a colleague?
Discovered a virulent new strain of flesh-eating bacteria?
Groped a homeless person?
Pulled a leech off their thigh?
Found a new boil?
Searched the restroom floor blindly for a lost contact lens?
Impulsively plunged their hands into a bowl of Jell-o studded with little marshmallows at the awards banquet?
Squashed a Brown Recluse with their index finger?
Frantically searched the Dumpster for the brilliant paper they were scheduled to present but accidentally threw away?
Brushed against the dust- and lice-laden curtains in the ballroom?
Accidentally cut off the tip of their middle finger with a souvenir scalpel?
Pried some perfectly good gum from the left front tire of their rental car?
Delicately picked god-knows-whose pubic hairs from the sides of the tub?
Wiped a dab of butter from the room service tray, licked their finger, and realized with horror that it wasn't butter?
Exchanged high-fives with a cadaver?
Allowed one of the medical students to suck on their index finger?
Hadn't washed since shaking hands with Bob Barker two years before?

Terry, for God's sake, you've left too big a hole in this story!