No Seats for Reform

to Editor of i Dear Editor, It is precisely because (as Kitty Donaldson puts it yesterday's "i") "Farage's long shadow is eclipsing the Tory party", that Labour and Liberal-Democrat activists should size up their strategy in constituencies, like Clacton, where they are unlikely to win and Reform could take the seat from the Conservatives. Indeed, a resilient Farage on the national stage, who can toss around false promises in his contract manifesto with gay abandon, would be a much more dangerous adversary for Labour in the difficult months to come than the Tory rump, and that is precisely why in those constituencies, both the Labour and Lib-Dem electorate should be encouraged to support the local Tory and deny Reform a place in parliament. Yours faithfully, Wiktor Moszczysnki,

Free Marwan Barghouti

I have for some time hoped that the charismatic Marwan Barghouti could in some middle distant future be released from jail and become the new Nelson Mandela who could be able to bring about a political solution and eventually peace to Palestine. This view has been reinforced by your article "Abuse of jailed Palestinian leader Barghouti amounts to torture" in The Observer" on May 19th. and it is time that Britain's political leadership should seek to make representations on his behalf to the current less belligerent members of the Israeli government. Barghouti is not a member of Hamas, but enjoys the support of so many of his people, whether Fatah, Hamas or politically uncommitted. The Israelis consider him a terrorist, but Mandela was also condemned as a terrorist in his day, and Yasser Arafat's crimes did not prevent Israel from making a deal with him subsequently. The crazed Netanyahu/Hamas blood bath must stop and it is time for adults like Marwan Barghouti and Benny Gantz to take over.

Yours faithfully,

Wiktor Moszczynski

Letter sent to the Editor of The Observer

Draft Federation Letter to Israeli Ambassador on Damian Sobol

 

To Ambassador Jakov Livne,

Israeli Embassy

Ul. Ludwika Krzywickiego 24,

02-078 Warszawa,

Poland

Thursday, 4th April 2024

Dear Mr Ambassador,

The Polish community in the UK was horrified by the massacre of Israeli citizens on October 7th by

Hamas terrorists last year, and has always believed in the right of the state of Israel to exist and

to defend itself.

However, that outrage cannot justify in any way the deliberate targeting and killing this week in

three separate vehicles of 7 foreign aid workers from the charity organization World Central

Kitchen. In particular, the Polish community was shocked that one of the innocent victims of these

three separate attacks was an experienced Polish aid worker Damian Soból, who had previously

worked as a volunteer aid worker in Ukraine and Turkey, and equally shocked at the news

of British victims of this attack, John Chapman, James Henderson, and James Kirby. Their only

motivation for their presence in Gaza was to help the victims of famine and disaster. Even though

the Israeli Prime Minister has admitted that the Israeli Defence Force caused these attacks,

neither he, nor the Israeli Ambassador in Poland, have apologized fully for these deaths, and the

latter has caused further outrage to the people of Poland and to the Polish community in the UK

by using this incident as an opportunity to enter a polemic about alleged antisemitism in Poland.

We believe that the Israeli government should issue a public apology for this incident, as well as

conduct a full investigation to establish who was personally responsible for this decision, while the

families of these 7 victims should be fully compensated by the Israeli government.

We further believe that the possibility of further such deaths of innocent victims can only be

prevented by the government of Israel responding positively to calls from Israel’s friends and

allies for an immediate cessation of hostilities in Gaza.

Yours faithfully,

Alicja Donimirska

Chair of the Federation of Poles in Great Britain

cc to Israeli Ambassador in London

Draft of Federation letter to Keir Starmer on EU citizens

 

Dear Sir Keir,

 

As the umbrella body for the main Polish organizations in the UK since 1947 we strongly urge you to announce that a future UK government led by yourself would offer default UK citizenship to all Polish and other EU citizens living in the UK with settled status. We believe that you could also eventually extend this to those with pre-settled status as soon as their 5 year temporary status expires. You would be right to think that this would reassure them of their continued further integration into the UK economy and into the social and cultural fabric of this country. It would also fulfil the promise made by those campaigning to leave the EU in 2016 that the security of EU citizens living in this country would be assured.

While we have strongly supported the recent campaign by the3million and others to extend voting rights in parliamentary elections to those EU citizens with settled status, yet this proposal has not yet been adopted by either of the main political parties. Consequently, more than 4 million UK taxpayers with EU citizenship remain without parliamentary representation in this country. We feel that their chance to have automatic access to UK citizenship, despite the inevitable initial fee, would resolve in a more straightforward way the issue of their current disenfranchisement. Parliamentary voting rights for EU citizens as EU citizens, would require introducing a constitutional change, but this would not be true of a decision to extend UK citizenship to them. Currently, while they are valuable stakeholders in British society and the British economy, they are still living at the whim of possible Home Office reinterpretations of their status, similar to that faced by the Windrush generation. They live with the status of “immigrant” which makes them feel vulnerable each time the issue of immigration arises in public debate. 

At least 1.138 million Polish nationals in this country have applied successfully for either settled or pre-settled status and have long been making a valuable contribution to this country. It would be advantageous for a future UK government to cement that positive achievement with the unconditional offer of UK citizenship. We look forward to your confirmation that you would want to  proceed with this generous but sensible proposal.

Yours sincerely

The operation was justified

 

If you are going through this, then some domestic issues to consider. Those tight Armani jeans pressing on your stoma not such a good idea. Perhaps you may need to but some looser clothes, or have your current trousers shortened by about three to four inches and then wear them just under hips, reinforced maybe by a pair of braces. That was my rite of passage, And for those who thought that at least now you would not be using so much toilet paper as before….. err, think again.  

A month after the operation I did have one relapse, when I suddenly felt faint and found myself vomiting violently. Things had calmed down by next morning but it was only then that I discovered that my dentures had gone missing clean out of my mouth during one of my vomits. I’m not sure to this day what caused this relapse, except that I had probably been dehydrated while carrying a heavy bag for an extended period. After that, I always took care to drink a couple of litres of water a day sipped gradually between meals. The advice is not to gulp great amounts of water at once, not during a meal, and not too late in the day, or you will find yourself peeing every hour or so at night and losing out on your beauty sleep. Moderation in all things.

After 5 weeks I came back to work. I had wanted to return at least a week earlier. However, the relapse set me back and my return was rescheduled for the next week. The employers were exceptionally generous. They suggested that in the first few days I arrive only  in the middle of the morning and work just for 5 hours. By then I had mastered my driving. That was after trying out several emergency stops in my underground car park, much to the consternation of my fellow residents. It was a 15 mile journey to work but luckily I drive against the morning traffic flow as my work is outside London. Everyone in the office seemed happy to see me, although some of my colleagues were still a little concerned at my appearance. But that was because my dentist had still not had time to replace my missing dentures.

The same week I saw my surgeon. She checked my stoma, poke around my tummy to ensure it was still soft, and obligingly checked progress with the stitches decomposing in my bottom. To me they were still an irritation, but to her they were “a beautiful sight”. Within a couple of weeks, they would just dissolve and disappear. Promises, promises. So, all in all, I got a good school report. 

However, she had more dramatic news. A post-operation analysis of my uprooted colon revealed the presence of a category one  tumour. This suggested I had had stage one bowel cancer. However, there appear  to have been no lymph nodes affected. Because of this and because of the low level of cancer, my surgeon was optimistic. However, I was to have my liver and  lungs checked and I would be under observation for the next five years to ensure the cancer had not spread. Also, she had appointed a Macmillan nurse to monitor me. I was going to be quite spoilt with all these extra nurses. Despite the remote possibility of this cancer returning, I was delighted with the news. It confirmed that my operation had been a necessity.

Defence Secretary over Kaliningrad Enclave

Dear Editor

Your correspondent Sam Rucker was right to refer to Russians being "wildly irresponsible" for trying to sabotage the GPS signals on the Defence Secretary's flight from Northern Poland (Russia jammed signal on Shapps RAF plane 15.03.2024). However, was it not equally "wildly irresponsible" for the UK defence minister to take a short cut across Russian territory to return home on a RAF plane. Doesn't Grant Shapps know there is a war on?

Yours faithfully

Wimtor Moszczynski

Letter to "i"

Why I volunteered for a Stoma.

 

When I met the surgeon at St Mary’s Hospital, I was not ready for her sucker-punch.

“We have to cut it out. All of it.”

“All? The whole large colon? Does it have to be all?”

“Yes, and the anal canal, as well. Up to and including the rectum.”

Only three minutes before she had said reassuringly, “You do not have cancer yet in your colon,” So far so good, I thought.

“But,” she continued remorselessly, “you have high grade dysplasia cells (what??) along the whole length of the large colon. According to past practice, these cells will almost inevitably become cancerous. It has been building up over the past year or so because the inflammation of your colon has lasted for so many years. As you know you have had Crohn’s Disease, or ulcerative colitis, over the last twenty-five years. The cells are now too weak to resist a cancerous growth.”

“What other option do I have?” I asked.

“Well, you can do nothing at all, and continue with your current treatment, but then the  NHS can do nothing prevent you from getting cancer.”

As I reeled from this information, a sudden alarming picture emerged. “Then, do I have to wear a colostomy bag?” She nodded.

How long for? “Forever”.

It was like a death sentence. I only knew a couple of distant acquaintances who had worn stomas, but I did not know the details of how they lived and had never discussed it with anyone in the past. Living with such a bag seemed like some kind of life changing disaster, like going blind or losing a limb. This may have happened to other people, but, thank the lucky stars, it was not supposed to happen to me or someone close to me. 

This was like a bolt out of the blue. I had merrily continued with my Crohn’s Disease over the last decades. I had been told that the disease was incurable, but manageable. It was an irritant, but at least it was painless, despite its uncertainties. The condition had caused me to undergo infusions every six weeks, and the pleasure of a colonoscopy every two years, but this way of life seemed acceptable and bearable in the long run. I could imagine it continuing in the same way unchanged into the future.

True, Crohn’s could be treacherous at times, with its occasional urgency taking you by surprise, especially when your self-control might relax as you neared a restroom. It left me embarrassed every now and again, as on a bus, or on the high street in Tunbridge Wells, or in the middle of the Alexanderplatz in Berlin, but I had become a past master on clearing myself up to disguise the mishap. In fact, I described living with Crohn’s Disease with a certain relish in my travel journal “Chasing Phileas Fogg: 80 Days on the Borealis”. I am 77 years old, but the Crohn’s did not  prevent me from working for a Chamber of Commerce two days a week or having a very busy schedule for my work in the Polish community.

However, in November I saw the head of the Gastroenteritis Clinic in Hammersmith Hospital for what I thought would be another routine appointment monitoring my progress with the Crohn’s. He looked kind of sad and shook his head gloomily. “I’m afraid,” he told me, “I have given you this treatment as long as I could, but now we need to find more drastic solutions. We have observed the possibility of cancer, following the results of the latest colonoscopy samples we have taken. This may  require some surgery,” he said ominously. He recommended  an appointment for me at St Mary’s in Paddington with a surgical team. And so, I found myself in the presence of this lady surgeon with her alarming announcement.

The new advice was such an unexpected body blow that I was left with the dilemma. Should I take this radical step to prevent a cancer which had not yet invaded my cells? Or should I tough it out and carry on as before. Many of my  friends counselled against surgery, although my wife felt that perhaps the surgical option had a certain logic to it.

I read up the literature on it. What did wearing a stoma, or colostomy bag, entail? My rectum would be sealed, my large bowel would be removed, and my waste would pass through the same small bowel directly into a little plastic pouch attached firmly to my body, which I would empty when necessary and change every other day or so. It would be a lifetime commitment. There would be a stoma unit at my local hospital to supervise my progress and arrange for my supply of fresh bags and other necessary accessories to make those regular changes. It sounded dreadful.

What were the dangers, apart from the obvious? An operation is always risky, there would be an uncomfortable stay in hospital. The brochure helpfully listed the risks, whether common, less common, or rare. Most were rare but these could include hernia, wound infection, nerve injury, sexual dysfunction (oh dear!), significant bleeding, blood clots, abdominal fluid collections, and finally something headed briefly as “death” .

On the other hand, the operation, which is helpfully called a laparoscopic panproctocolectomy,  would remove the risk of developing colon cancer.  There would be no chemotherapy, no long-term pain or risk of eventual death from cancer. For the surgeon it was a fairly standard operation, under general anaesthesia, and she would normally be able to perform it through keyhole surgery. She would slowly remove my infected large colon through my right side until she reached the link with the uninfected small bowel which would be allowed to protrude for an inch or so. She would then place the stoma over that. I had this weird image in my mind of the surgeon  slowly pulling out my one and a half metre colon, hand over fist, wondering when she would finally reach the link to the small colon.

Some 200,000 people in the UK have a stoma, including famous singers, comedians, and athletes. It would not prevent them from being active. I was told that I should be able in time to continue my work and my community activities as before. After all, Napoleon had a permanent colostomy bag following a gunshot wound, and it did not prevent him from continuing quite a busy lifestyle, including coronations, mistresses and staging quite a few battles all over Europe.

I took a deep breath and said, “Alright, let’s do it!”  Some of my friends urged me to wait, but I saw no need to delay. I asked the surgeon to give me a date that would allow me to have a book launch for my latest publication describing my 80-day cruise around the world with my wife. After that I was committed.

The operation in Charing Cross Hospital lasted 7 hours. Staying in hospital for 8 days was a drag, but one I had expected. Initially I was linked to various 12-hour infusions, with a so-called Robinson’s bag draining my single kidney (I had once donated the other kidney to my wife), a cluster of cannulas on each arm, while my poor willy was intimidated into submission by a catheter collecting my pee. My stomas were being drained regularly by the ever-patient nurses. Within a few days the staff had removed the catheter and the Robison’s bag.

Emptying a stoma, and sealing it up afterwards, proved child’s play. The real problem was to learn how to drain the stoma yourself and then how to change it. My initial two attempts, supervised by a special stoma nurse, left me so stressed that I nearly fainted each time. However, I realised that this was something I had to overcome as I would be responsible for this procedure for the rest of my life. So, I lined up the necessary accessories. These included the new bag cut to size to fit the stump of the protruding small colon, the ice-cold spray to remove the old bag glued to my side, the bowl of warm water, three or more wipes and the black plastic bag to collect the debris at the end. I placed them on my bedside tray in the order of their use with the opened black bag first. Then I took a photo of it. After that I proceeded systematically to make the change. It took less than a minute. I pressed down the sides of the stoma now sticking to my body. I was the master now. Obviously, there was still a lot to learn but my recovery was beginning. I was ready to leave the hospital and face the world.

The initial aim was to ensure that my waste was not too watery. Initially the contents would just pour out, but as soon as I had recovered my appetite and had moved on to more solid food, my output became thicker and left the bag grudgingly. In time I had to squeeze it out, like toothpaste out of a tube. However, my diet had to change. Still, I now had to cut the crust off my bread, and the skin off my fish or potatoes, avoid stringy and high fibre foods, peas and sweetcorn, raw fruit and veg, and items with pips like grapes and strawberry. I should choose white bread rather than brown, corn flakes rather than weetabix, tea biscuits rather than digestives, soft eggs rather than hard boiled. Apart from that I could eat most foods but should learn to chew them and eat them slowly. I should avoid driving a car for some 6 weeks, avoid strenuous exercise and lifting any weights, but otherwise be active. Within 24 hours of leaving hospital, I was out walking every day, buying newspapers, meeting friends in cafes, travelling on a bus. For her birthday we travelled for a 3 day "dirty" weekend in a riverside hotel in Maidenhead. We travelled there by Elizabeth Line. As for heavy shopping, my wife and I switched temporarily to ordering our main food through supermarket deliveries. This was the new reality.

I had learned to change the pouch every day in the morning before breakfast so that the procedure was not interrupted by sudden spills from the stump of the remaining colon. By the way, the  output was normally odourless, unless you had eaten some pungent fish or curry. You would not normally be embarrassed by its content when at work or in a pub or café, and the bag is not transparent.

(to be continued)

Colonial atrocities on St Kitts

 

Dear Editor, 

In response to Patrick Cockburn's timely article "After sugar island horrors, toxic legacy of slavery will never die" ( i - 09.03.2024) the toxic legacy is not just moral, but also cultural and economic. The terrain that bore the uneconomic sugar plantations, which were finally shut down in 2005, is now fallow grassland, surrounded by a tourist train trundling around the island on the track built by the sugar plantation owners to bring their crop to the sole port on the island. Yet, as I describe in my travel book "Chasing Phileas Fogg: 80 Days on the Borealis", St Kitts was also the site of another colonial atrocity, as evil as the slave trade, namely the wholesale genocide of the local indigenous Carib population, who were massacred in 1626 by French and English settlers at Bloody Point, and the surviving women and childen were deported to Dominica. Consequently, unlike on other West Indian islands, the local black population of St Kitts have no indigenous traditions with which to blend and enrich their resurging African culture, and still have to rely on colonial mementoes for their tourist highlights. 

Yours faithfully,

Wiktor Moszczynski

Letter to i - published11.03.2024