Don't Panic

I have flash-backs to March 2003. A déjà vu of confusion, misinformation, official inertia and death. Then came the fightback; the harnessing of knowledge and expertise, all implemented by dedicated people determined to prevail. There is light at the end of the tunnel.

Commanding Tin Sum Division in Shatin, I'd recently acquired coverage of the Prince of Wales Hospital. With the closure of the Siu Lek Yuen Police Station, the divisional boundaries changed.

On a 24-hour basis, we provided a constable to cover the police post in A&E, plus duties to guard prisoners undergoing treatment. With 1,300 beds, until then, the hospital was not on my radar except for the many births by overstayers. My focus was elsewhere. That all changed on March 11, 2003. 

A constable reported that medical staff are wearing masks at all times. His casual enquiry with a nurse revealed concerns over a new 'super-flu.' No-one had bothered to tell us. The officer wondered 'whether he should wear a mask?'

The next day I paid a visit to the hospital administrator. On entering the office, I knew something was odd because even the clerical staff had masks fitted. Soon I found myself in a meeting with 20-odd doctors and support staff. I was the only one without cover. By now, my sense of unease was increasing. 

"It's airborne, in the air-conditioning and it's killing people," offered one doctor. "You don't know that," responded another. 

Whatever it was, and whatever it was doing, it had a group of doctors unsettled and scrambling for solutions. I left the meeting with a box of face-masks from the A&E manager, and immediately issued orders for officers on post to wear them.

By the time I got back to the station, the head of police public relations was on the telephone. He's demanding answers after the media called him. 'Why are my officers wearing masks? Do I realise this will scare the public?'.

Counting to ten, and then taking deep breaths, I reply. ‘If medical and office staff at POW needed masks, then what is the risk to my officers?’ Pointing out his concerns about our image is irrelevant, I ask is he ordering us to remove masks?

​That killed the call. This was the first sign that some people, and the government, in general, would take time to switch mindset. 

Within 24-hours, I'd had meetings with my bosses. Fortunately, the regional commander Rick Dundee was on my wavelength and got it. He provided immediate unwavering support. Within days this top-cover proved vital when I requested extra cleaning material.

An administrator called me.
"Your request for extra bleach and other items is refused because it's not in estimates. Please apply next year. If you wish to make additional provision every year, then include it under the recurrent items sub-head." 

This sort of bureaucratic nonsense dogged us for weeks until the head-shed started rattling the pen-pushers.

I decided to put in place NBC-type decontamination for my officers. My EOD background was to prove helpful because we'd practised such protocols. I soon had an area set up in the station compound that allowed officers returning from duty at POW to clean.

Using SARS-only designated vehicles permitted us to keep down any possible cross-contamination. At the same time, we implemented enhanced cleaning within the station.

​By March 17, the POW A&E closed as a SARS 'hot-zone'. Then within days, a constable went down with the infection. He'd visited POW on duty although it's never clear when and how he contracted SARS.

He recovered, although his parents and sister also suffered infections that led to his father's death. Knocked sideways by this development, we reviewed and redoubled our precautions. At the same time, I scrambled to get more protective gear. 

By March 25, with the A&E to reopen after a thorough cleaning, I needed to have officers back on the ground. A police presence at the A&E was essential. For this, we agreed on full protective gear as worn by medical staff and regular rotation of duties. 

Plus, I insisted that supervisors make visits to provide support. To generate ownership of the challenge, I gave officers free rein to advance safety procedures. If they needed an item of kit or a process we'd work towards getting it.

When I called for volunteers to man the post, the response was overwhelming. To this day, I remember the lump in my throat when officer after officer stepped forward.

​The esprit de corps, allied to an unstinting zeal to do the right thing filled me with pride. I knew then that Hong Kong would defeat this virus.

Throughout March and April, we needed to keep vigilance outside Ward 8A. As a focal point of the SARS outbreak, it attracted considerable media interest.

​On more than one occasion, officers caught press photographers trying to sneak in. I warned them if found inside; we'd isolate them. That appeared to do the trick. 

As the deaths mounted, officers conducted the Coroner mandated investigations. This threw up a new set of issues because direct contact with the deceased for forensics was no longer possible. In time refined identification and related procedures fell into place. 

Looking back, we struggled at times. A lack of understanding and a fair amount of anxiety hampered us. Then we had to contend with the bureaucrats, low-level and senior types, sticking rigidly to procedures that impeded us. By means foul and fair we surmounted this. 

I threatened to go to the media about a delay in providing surgical gloves. Someone in Stores couldn't fathom why cops needed so many gloves, thus decided to block us. Playing the angry gwailo, ranting down the telephone cleared that road-block.

I'm a great believer in studying the data because getting bogged down in the 24-hour media coverage fails to give a proper perspective. 

Like SARS, this illness is causing pneumonia. Yet, this disease appears to be much less severe than SARS. From the current data, we have a crude mortality rate of 2%. SARS was nearer 10%. Granted the situation is dynamic, and these figures will change. 

Modelling by experts put the likely outbreak at higher than the confirmed cases, while the incubation may be up to 14 days. Influenza, by comparison, is typically two days. This illness is spread by droplets and close personal contact. 

This fact is important because public health measures can contain the spread. Isolation of patients and social distancing by avoiding large crowds cut the opportunity to infect others — likewise, masks, hand-washing and personal hygiene help.

And while not wishing to downplay the situation, the data is telling us interesting things. SARS affected over 8,000 people with 744 deaths. Meanwhile, influenza kills between 250-500,000 people each year (WHO estimate). 

Taking the annual mortality at the lower end of 250,000 and with China at roughly 20% of the World population than in a typical year, we'd expect some 137 deaths per day in China from flu.

​This translates to over 4,000 deaths since the epidemic began compared to the 170 currently reported from Coronavirus.

In 2003, even before the modern social media maelstrom of comment, fake news and distortion, misinformation was everywhere.

In one instance, a medical professional told me SARS could come from mosquitoes. Then a story circulated that boiling vinegar was a cure, while some believed in chanting and the worship of deities.

We need to remember that the economic damage that may arise in the coming months is mainly self-inflicted. People will overreact, then succumb to irrational fears. Panic buying is one sign. 

Also, in the current political climate, individual sections of society are stirring deep pools of xenophobia and prejudice to demand actions unjustified by the threat. Rational risk analysis struggles to be heard in this vexed environment. 

So while it's fashionable to wax lyrical about the end of days and the threat to humanity, step back and think. In the end, applying rational methods won the day in 2003; isolation of the sick, using data to trace possible contacts and simple hygiene. ​

These methods buttressed by the sort of resolute people I had in Tim Sum Division, supporting brave medical staff, won the day.

​It may get rough in the coming weeks, yet I've every confidence we will prevail.

Meanwhile, on a lighter note, none on the following are recommended.