I had had a plea for cold medicines from a medic, who is stationed at an Eastern frontline. The soldiers there live in desperate conditions, not unlike those familiar to us from the history books about World War One. It is trench warfare of a worst kind set amidst Ukrainian winter. The fighters live in cold mud and have no means to dry their clothes, or keep themselves warm. Not surprisingly, colds, flu and COVID (there is no data regarding the latter as no one gets tested) are widespread.
This is complicated by the fact that symptomatic relief cold medicines are not readily accessible due to a sharp spike in demand coupled with severe production shortages due to the war, and limited logistical chains from Europe. They also have problems with trench feet, and need topical antifungals to treat them.
I emailed my consultant colleagues at the hospital with a plea for help, and was overwhelmed with offers of support. People were limited by the number of packs they were able to buy, as most of the cold medicines contain Paracetamol, and one is only allowed to buy one pack in the UK. Nevertheless, there are a few hundred consultants at our hospital, so the overall amount of packs that we were able to collect turned out quite impressive.
Cold medicines donated by my consultant colleagues
At the same time, I was offered to distribute a substantial amount of flu vaccines by a colleague of mine who has connections at a pharmaceutical company. I spoke to a friend in Lviv, who is in charge of tactical medical training programme over there, and he said that he was training 100 soldiers and medics, who were getting ready to be deployed to Bakhmut, which was a Hell equivalent on the eastern frontline. I initially planned to drive to Krakow, and hand vaccines over to the volunteers I knew there, but after a few phone calls I realized that it was impossible to have this organized at a very short nortice over the festive season. We only had 7 days before the soldiers were off to the frontline. I had to do it myself.
There was a lot of organization, goodwill, and logistics involved in making this project a success. The vaccines were delivered to our hospital on the Christmas Eve at 10 p.m. This was no small feat considering the fact that the pharmaceutical company’s office was closed at midday on that day. It was my colleague, and her contact at the company who ultimately made it happen. It was also the courrier who agreed to deliver the parcel that late, and meet me at the hospital. Last, but not least it was my colleagues at the Anaesthetic Department who stepped in, and covered my theatre lists at a very short notice while I was away.
A box with vaccines delivered to the hospital on Christmas Eve
100 vaccines with cooling elements inside the box.
After spending Christmas at the Longleat safari park with the kids, which included driving through a monkey enclosure with baboons, and smaller primates climb on top of the passing cars, and basically being monkeys, which delighted the kids, but left the adults unimpressed, I left for Dover early in the morning of the Boxing Day with my car still covered in monkey excrement. It was all finally working out, and I was excited to do my part.
Riding with a monkey at the Longleat Safari Park
…and looking at somebody else’s car being destroyed!
I reached Krakow by the end of Day 2, and got in touch with the guys who were supposed to meet me at the Ukrainian side of the border. It turned out that they wanted me to cross the border at a checkpoint, which was close to a military training range where the soldiers were based. I normally use one of the two checkpoints closest to Krakow, which are about 2 hours drive from the city, and did not bother checking where that one was before starting off leisurely on the following morning. To my surprise, I had 5 hours of driving through rather pretty, but hard to navigate through Polish coutryside ahead of me.
Beautiful Krakow in Christmas decorations.
I was quite pessimistic about my upcoming experience of crossing the border, and hence was not disappointed – the roundtrip took me 6 hours, but the guys were waiting for me outside, and the handover itself happened uneventfully. I was back in Poland by about 8 p.m. I decided to drive to Warsaw, as it was actually closer than Krakow from where I was. I reached my hotel at midnight, and I honestly do not remember how I got there. I remember that roads were really bad, not lit, and with multiple potholes, but I did not care. The mission was accomplished, and I felt elated.
At the Polish-Ukrainian border
Driving on the following day was long and tedious. German autobahns are smooth, well-maintained roads with no speed limits, which are a pleasure to drive on, but not necessarily on Day 4 of non-stop 10-12 hour-per day driving shifts when you do want some potholes, and some change of scenery to stay awake… I did persevere, and was finally home by the late evening of the 30th of December, exactly as I had planned. I fulfilled my promise to the kids to take them to the Royal Albert Hall on the New Year’s Eve to see the Nutcracker!
I was genuinely happy that it had worked out. That little mission was what my wider Ukraine project is all about – targeted missions aimed at concrete people who need it the most.
Medics being vaccinated
Medics being vaccinated
Soldiers being vaccinated
Soldiers being vaccinated
Oh, and the flu medicines have been delivered to trenches too. As you could see from the picture below some of the packs of Strepsils were fortified with additional messages of support and good will from my consultant colleagues.
An extra-strong pack of Strepsils was enjoyed by the soldiers at the Eastern frontline