Community spirit on full display at virus-testing clinics

“How can I get a paper version of my nucleic test result in addition to a digital one?” I asked a nurse at the check-in counter of a community clinic this morning.

The nurse stood up from her seat to greet me, her body inclined forward so she could hear me clearly. “Well, you could register here and leave your ID and phone number,” she said warmly, pointing at a piece of paper on the table. “We will send you a text message tomorrow afternoon, and you can pick up the paper document.”

No sooner had she answered my question than another nurse standing by her picked up the piece of paper and waved with a broad smile. “Come with me. I will register you.” We then moved a few steps to another table where she wrote down my ID and phone number and assured me that everything was set.

“Shall I bring my ID card tomorrow?” I asked.

“Not necessary. Just remember your name and phone number,” she said with a touch of humor.

That was the happy ending to my dramatic testing experience on such a chilly morning — the outside temperature around the community clinic in the city's outskirts dropped below zero when I got there at about 6am. A long line of test-takers had already formed outside the clinic's gate. It was so cold that I hoped people wouldn’t have to wait too long outside, though I knew that waiting outdoors would help reduce the risk of infection.

Like everyone else, I initially received a small piece of paper printed with my queue number from a security guard. I was 128th out of 150 people to be tested this morning. Seeing me pulling my coat tighter to fend off the morning freeze, the guard walked up to me and said: “You can go home and come back at around 8am.” So I left, as did some others.

When I returned, I was surprised to see people forming an even longer line — about 100 meters. The test would begin at around 8:30am, so, like me, many people had returned to get ready. I knew a test would not take too long, but because I had caught a cold, I was afraid even half an hour’s exposure to freezing temperature would probably weigh me down. So I asked the guard again: “Can I return later?”

“Sure,” he said, waving his big hand at me like an old friend, as if to point my way home. When I returned again at around 10:30am, the long line was gone, and I was the only one left. “Be quick,” the guard urged. “The morning test is almost over.” So I dashed my way forward. When I reached the makeshift clinical room, the medical staff were ready to pack and go but were nice enough to extend their service time for me. My nasal swab test took less than five minutes.

Had it not been for the flexible and kind treatment of the staff, I wouldn't have gotten tested. After all, the city I'm traveling to next week hasn’t demanded someone from a low-risk region — like the suburb in which I live — to present a negative nucleic test result.

I went for a nucleic test anyway, because I wanted to be a good citizen and make sure I was 100 percent safe to be around.

Thanks in part to many more community clinics that have worked extended hours to meet the demand of test-takers, Shanghai has done well in nipping COVID-19 cases in the bud. Indeed, community clinics constitute more than half of all the medical institutions in Qingpu District where I live that offer nucleic test services, just like in Songjiang District. All in all, community clinics have effectively diverted the workload of bigger hospitals in identifying cases of the virus. Earlier this week, Shanghai published a list of 156 medical institutions providing nucleic tests, and many are community clinics.

The one I visited this morning is only five minutes from my home. Although the clinic doesn't offer online booking services, appointments can be made by phone.

The Shanghai Observer reported on Thursday that many community clinics have extended working hours to keep pace with testing demand. At a community clinic in Yangpu District, the staff have been working different shifts to serve test-takers who come at different times — which reduces waiting time and the risk of cross-infection.

A communal spirit goes a long way toward making our society tick, and at the heart of this spirit is a friendly interest in the well-being of others, as Bertrand Russell famously noted.