Ally McLaws was for 18 years Scotland’s most senior NHS Communications Director until he quit to launch his own business in March 2019. Two months later his ambitious business plans were thrown into disarray when he was diagnosed with lung cancer.

Since then he’s had his left lung removed at the Golden Jubilee Hospital in Clydebank but the cancer remains active ... last week he received his first treatment of two separate chemotherapy drugs alongside an immunotherapy drug treatment.

Today the first of his regular Sunday columns begins as he stays tightly locked up in isolation in his Ayrshire home with all the complications and side-effects of chemo treatment and low immunity, as we face up to the escalating threat and challenges of “the virus”.

Between These Four Walls

LEADING crisis communications for the NHS when Glasgow Airport was “fire-bombed” in 2007 by terrorists seems child’s play compared to what’s happening today ... even though one of the bombers was a doctor working at Paisley’s Royal Alexandra Hospital.

Leading comms for the NHS in Greater Glasgow during the 2009 H1N1 swine flu pandemic seems altogether more relevant.

There was worldwide concern. The first death outside of America was in Scotland. In fact, it was at Paisley’s Royal Alexandra Hospital – a young woman who had recently given birth. Eventually the pandemic would officially claim 33 Scottish lives. Few doubt the real figure was actually much higher.

Fear gripped the UK – and Scotland in particular – as public health colleagues were thrown into round-the-clock emergency mode with dedicated flu jab vaccine clinics hurriedly set up to keep potential carriers of the virus away from GP surgeries and other health facilities normally used for the flu jab.

There was a shortage of the vaccine and there was a clamour to get protected – there was also huge concern over the lack of knowledge about how to best use and deploy PPE (personal protective equipment). The emergency departments of our hospitals were revealed as wanting in their ability to prepare and deliver fit-for-purpose pandemic handling strategies. Ambulance crews complained of exposure without appropriate PPE.

Eventually it all calmed down and went away, and public attention moved to fresh topics. The daily norm of short-termism, political sparring for short-term gain and the creation of headlines that momentarily seem hugely important regained pole position as the stale staple diet of Scotland, the UK, Europe, and the world.

But in the world of public health protection the experts knew nothing had really changed. That our brushes with avian flu in 2006 and swine flu in 2009 (H1N1 and further scientific identifying codes were their preference for describing the tabloid nicknames) were just tasters of what would inevitably come to bite our proverbial butts.

I remember one of the most respected public health consultants in Scotland – Dr Syed Ahmed – addressing health board seminars and presenting with absolute certainty the evidence that predicted a far more significant influenza pandemic would strike – not if but when – and that the death toll would be enormous.

The scientific evidence was overwhelming, and he and other experts at the World Health Organisation and public health epidemiologists around the world were in absolutely no doubt it would happen – “this year, next year, in a few years ... we don’t know which year but we do know it will happen”.

Now, with time to reflect on things past and present, I sit in my converted garage/office and wonder how it is that so many people in power, so many policymakers and scientists, influential individuals and organisations, could have ignored such stark evidence. I wonder how they focused so much on Brexit and income tax levels, and how many immigrant entry points should be given to fruit pickers wanting to enter the UK ... when such matters as preparation for a pandemic were sidelined, and climate change given but a glancing nod from the world’s most powerful nations and leaders.

I’m not angry. I’m too old for that. I am disappointed but I am also hopeful – truly hopeful – that after this crisis has passed there will be a new order of priority and a new beginning for a post-Covid generation to re-order the world.

My own mortality remains a concern and I am openly afraid of the risk of leaving my sanctuary in a few days to attend a clinic where I must give blood prior to attending my second treatment session for chemo and immunotherapy at the local Crosshouse Hospital, just outside Kilmarnock.

I keep myself sane by posting a “daily smile story” on my Facebook page, on Twitter and on LinkedIn. My wonderful children and my equally loving stepchildren and grandkids keep my spirits up with phone calls, message bag drops at the door, a wave in the window. My amazing wife Laura nourishes my heart and soul with kindness and care.

I have cancer at probably the worst time imaginable but I am so very lucky. So many are afraid, alone and don’t have what I have. Our community spirit, our civic leaders, our media stars on TV and radio, and our journalists in print and online are a precious lifeline. There are many to be applauded – and I applaud them all.