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The Herald Scotland
9 hours ago
- Health
- The Herald Scotland
Kitchen fall brought me back down to earth as I deal with broken ribs
My paralysed leg slipped, and I landed full force on my side, smashing into a table before bouncing to the floor and hitting my head. I knew instantly something was wrong. I couldn't move. However, I could reach my phone, so I managed to message for help. I lay there for 20 minutes on the floor until a friend with a spare key arrived. Then the ambulance came. And just like that, I was back in hospital. CT scans, IV lines, heart monitors, painkillers. One minute I was planning a road trip; the next I was flat on a trolley in the resus department, blinking at the ceiling lights I've seen too many times before. The diagnosis: two broken ribs. My first. And of course, they're on my paralysed side, where everything is more complicated. When the doctors said it would take eight weeks to heal, I could barely process it. Eight weeks is an age in this body. In this life. Falls are something I live with daily. They're an ever-present risk. Every step, every uneven pavement, every slippery floor there's a split-second possibility that my world could turn again. At the spinal cord hospital, the wards were full of people whose lives had changed because of a fall. We don't talk about it much, but it's one of the most common reasons people with injuries like mine are caused. What makes this harder is that it happened so fast. One second I was moving through my day, groggy from jet lag, sure, but functioning. The next, I was in survival mode. It's not just the fall that hurts. It's the trauma it triggers. The ambulance lights. The questions. The scans. The smell of hospital soap. The sound of the machines. It all takes me straight back to the worst days, to the mistake that caused my spinal cord injury in the first place. An injury I still believe 100 per cent should never have happened. And so, I find myself back in limbo. I should be in Edinburgh. I was looking forward to taking part in The Capital Conversation, sitting on stage alongside Rhona and Archie. Instead, I was patched in via Zoom from my sofa, propped up by cushions and codeine. I'm proud of the Edinburgh University team who made that happen, they didn't need to, but they did. That small kindness meant a lot, I also wanted to support Archie. I should be visiting friends across Scotland. Playing golf. Breathing in the cool Highland air. But instead, I'm in my flat in London, bruised and broken (again), looking out the window and trying to come to terms with another detour I didn't choose. This is one of the hardest parts of living with a spinal cord injury. Not just the physical limits, but the unpredictability. The fact that everything can change in a blink. You plan a week. A conversation. A game. A trip. And then suddenly, it's a hospital corridor and someone asking if you know what day it is. I've had a few messages from friends who've broken ribs before, all of them say it's brutal. No comfortable position. No quick fixes. No shortcuts. Just time, and patience, and learning to breathe through the pain. Another bump in the road, then. Another test. Another chance to practise resilience whether I feel ready or not. I'm tired of the tests. But I haven't given up. I can't. Because somewhere beyond the frustration, there's still a belief in the life I'm trying to rebuild. This fall has grounded me, literally and metaphorically. But I'll get up again, like I always do. Slowly, carefully, stubbornly. Not because I'm brave or special or built differently. Just because I have to. And because I've learned that even when you can't move forward in the way you hoped, you can still find a way to move in thought, in connection, in spirit. Even when your body breaks again, you can still show up with those core values that guide you everyday. As I laid in hospital opposite a 93-year-old lady who had also fallen I kept thinking maybe this was a sign to slow down, I had moved into human doing rather than human being recently and felt a wave of frustration come over me as I thought this should not have happened. So, as the weekend comes I will try to be kind to myself around the fall and reframe this as a point of rest and recovery from my recent travels.
The Herald Scotland
15 hours ago
- Health
- The Herald Scotland
Force behind the creation of Scotland's first children's hospice dies
Died: May 10, 2025 Nancy Blaik, who has died aged 88, was a prolific charity volunteer and a driving force behind the creation of Scotland's first children's hospice in the 1990s. Born in Wallyford in East Lothian to parents Agnes and Angus Geekie, Nancy had two siblings, Christina and James, both of whom predeceased her. Growing up near Canonmills, where she went to school, Nancy entered her first employment at 15 years old, working as an office assistant in the National Farmers Union. She later becoming a highly skilled audio typist in the medical microbiology department of Edinburgh University. Despite a difficult start in life due to deprivation and wartime family stress, Nancy, who was blind from childhood, achieved so much in working for others. In 1977 she welcomed her beloved son Daniel into the world. Unfortunately, at the age of just two Daniel was diagnosed with, and profoundly disabled by, the metabolic disease Leighs Encephalopathy, a severe, progressive, neurological disorder which meant he could only move his eyes and mouth. As a result, Nancy took on the role of Daniel's full-time carer throughout his childhood, as well as being his devoted mother. Shortly after Daniel's diagnosis Nancy became involved with, and actively raised funds for, a small charity called Children Living with Inherited Metabolic Diseases (CLIMB). It was through CLIMB that she became aware of Martin House children's hospice in Yorkshire, where she started visiting with Daniel and her husband Jack for respite. In 1988, Nancy and Jack, along with some other parents who all regularly travelled the hundreds of miles from Scotland to Martin House for precious care and respite for their seriously ill children, got together to discuss the logistics of opening such a facility closer to home. So passionate were Nancy and her group to achieve this that in September 1991 they held their first public meeting in Edinburgh University and less than six months later a group was formally incorporated, becoming the registered charity that is known today as Children's Hospices Across Scotland (CHAS). Nancy never let herself be held back by her vision loss and her dedication and commitment to the charitable causes close to her heart led to her being named Disabled Scot of the Year in 1991. In the years that followed Nancy played a key role in raising the £10million needed to build the first CHAS children's hospice. Thanks to a major appeal from The Daily Record which attracted many generous donations from the Scottish public and other sources, Nancy's, and that of many others, dream for a children's hospice in Scotland was eventually realised in 1996 when Rachel House opened its doors in Kinross. Read more Daniel enjoyed 13 wonderful years of visiting Rachel house with Nancy and Jack before he sadly died in 2009, aged 31, long outliving the prognosis of a few years given when he was two. Before and since his death, Nancy remained active in raising funds for CHAS and received an MBE for her work as a founding director of CHAS in 1997. Over the last three decades Nancy's legacy has helped CHAS to ensure that no family faces the death of their child alone and has provided unwavering care and support to thousands of families in its two hospices, Rachel House in Kinross and Robin House in Balloch (which opened in 2005), in hospitals or at home – giving children and families the gift of choice in their palliative care journeys. Alongside her work at CHAS, Nancy inspired the creation of Leith Home Start, a support service in Edinburgh, and was also an active and dedicated fundraiser for RNIB and Guide Dogs for the Blind. Other notable achievements of Nancy's included being a participant in the Lothian Birth Cohorts 1936 research group study run by Edinburgh University. She also featured in a BBC Scotland programme in the Focal Point series in 1988 entitled Nancy's Story which was about her life as a fundraising powerhouse and about the life of Daniel also. In her later years Nancy became profoundly disabled herself by Lewy Body Dementia and was cared for by her devoted husband Jack and a small team of personal assistants, who made her life as active and as independent as it could be, in her own home and community of 50 years. Jack followed in Nancy's footsteps 25 years after her good example by being awarded an OBE in the 2025 New Years Honours list for services in support of the Independent Living Fund Scotland. Jack said: "I was 25 years well behind but in eventually catching up with Nancy she was the proof that women are invariably a good influence on men. Nancy was much loved by many, not least by Daniel and I." Nancy Blaik was blind from childhood (Image: Contributed) CHAS CEO Rami Okasha also paid tribute to Nancy saying: "Nancy was a true inspiration for many staff and families at CHAS. She had a clear ambition for what CHAS should offer young people, children and their families. She showed true commitment and spoke with real passion, holding true to her values over many years. "Nancy along with the other founders had the vision of what palliative care for babies and children could look like, along with strong determination, resilience and courage to turn their vision into a reality. With love and compassion, their mission has led to CHAS to now offer unwavering care to children who may die young and to their families, at every step on this hardest of journeys, in hospices, hospitals and in their homes." Nancy's legacy will forever live on in all the valuable work of CHAS in supporting children with life-shortening conditions and their families right across Scotland. At The Herald, we carry obituaries of notable people from the worlds of business, politics, arts and sport but sometimes we miss people who have led extraordinary lives. That's where you come in. If you know someone who deserves an obituary, please consider telling us about their lives. Contact
The National
17 hours ago
- Science
- The National
Humanoid robots pose an ethical dilemma we've long prepared for
Earlier this week, an Edinburgh University lab exemplified the second option. Looking like a toad made from rubbery stickle bricks, it's a 'soft robot' – one that can (with a whiff of air pressure) walk out of its own 3D-manufacturing unit. They'll be useful for nuclear decommissioning, biomedicine and space exploration, says the lab. Great! Robots as curiously shaped facilitators of a cleaner, healthier, more ambitious world. Safely in the background. READ MORE: I've voiced ScotRail trains for 20 years and was replaced with AI without being told And then there are the humanoid robots (or HRs), currently cavorting all over your news feed. They're landing punches as Thai boxers in Hangzhou, China. They're playing badminton (admittedly with an extra two legs) in Zurich, Switzerland. A BMW factory, in the improbably named American town of Spartanburg, already has humanoid bipedal robots assembling parts on the production line (they're also starting in a Hyundai plant later this year). Chinese state-run warehouses in Shanghai have human operators manipulating HRs, getting them to fold T-shirts, make sandwiches and open doors, over and over again. All generating data they can learn from, to act effectively in the near future. Those who keep half an eye on radical technology may be a bit perplexed. Wasn't there some relief in the utter klutziness of robots, as they attempted to negotiate a few stairs, or turn a door knob? Didn't we share their pratfalls gleefully on social media – the bathos (if not hubris) that kept us relatively sane, in these accelerating times? Computers might thrash us at most cognitive tasks. But tying shoelaces, making pizza, wiping a child's nose? Not yet, and maybe not ever. Hail the embodied human, and their evolved physical capabilities! Well, there's a different track opening up. It's partly driven by the sci-fi imagination of the tech bros, East and West: most of these humanoid robots look like the rebellious droids in the 2004 movie I, Robot. But it's also an assumption that the new, actively-learning models of artificial intelligence can do for humanoid robots what they've done for language, visuals and coding. Which is to generate plausible and coherent behaviour in the physical world, as they generate the same for prose or images. Just to state the obvious: there's economic interest here. The target of these companies is a unit that can learn skills as required, flipping from task to task like a human worker. 'You can imagine a supply store has one, and that robot can be in the backroom depalletizing, cleaning, stocking shelves, checking inventory, just a huge range of things,' says Jonathan Hurst, co-founder and chief robot officer at Agility Robotics. Working 24/7, only stopping to be charged: 'That's where the real value comes in', concludes Hurst. READ MORE: Union slams Scottish companies using voice data without consent for new AI announcers The point of a humanoid-like machine seems obvious to most of these entrepreneurs. The world is already designed for humans, and maximum profitability will come from robots stepping competently and confidently into this environment. As the big business consultancies are predicting, the price for a working humanoid might descend to as low as $15,000 within the next few years, certainly lower as production scales up. That starts to become a viable business case for many enterprises – if the devices deliver on the performance promises currently being made. Let's assume (and it may be a major assumption) that physical robotics is on the same exponential curve as the computations of AI (and indeed directly rides on the latter's ascent). What that instantly opens up is a vast archive of myths and tropes about the fearful prospect of creating artificial humans, and how they'll live among us. We've been preparing for this ... READ MORE: From the editor: We're all sick of Farage. But we can't 'just ignore him' Greek mythology had Hephaestus making automatons – self-moving golden handmaidens with 'intelligence in their hearts'. Pygmalion the sculptor fell in love with his statue Galatea; Talos, a giant bronze automaton powered by ichor, guarded Crete. Across ancient India and China, still more defensive robots were imagined: the Buddhist text of Lokapannatti describes mechanical warriors that protected relics in subterranean cities. Back in Europe, the golem was raised to defend the Jewish ghettos. Mary Shelley's Frankenstein directly addresses our capacity to make humanoid subjects, and the ethics of the life we might share with them. And we mustn't forget that the term 'robot' itself comes from the Czech genius Karel Čapek, and his 1920 play R.U.R. (Rossum's Universal Robots) – 'robota' being Czech for forced labour. So right at the core of this domain's name sits the main anxiety we have about it. What does it mean for us to create an entity that we intend will work (or fight) entirely on our behalf? It's one of the deeper, more civilisational arguments against a humanoid robot. Which is that it revives a master-slave framing from the worst of our past. An original cruelty of power that generates many others. The great auteur of human weirdness, filmmaker Stanley Kubrick, articulated this well in his final movie, A.I. (posthumously realised by Steven Spielberg). The robot boy David – and we shouldn't forget the underlying Pinnochio reference – is eventually discarded: he was a substitute for a real boy, who eventually revives from his coma. Kubrick/Spielberg show how distorted human relations become – how resentful, harsh and violent – when these ever-more-perfect humanoid entities move among them. Their various roles of servitude do not protect them. The end of the movie delivers a severe judgement on human morality. The robot boy is rediscovered, by beautifully communal 'mechas', on an utterly drowned and terminated Earth. On David's request, the mechs revive a clone of the human 'mother' who pushed him out into the forest. They are able to share one last, gentle day together. READ MORE: How much has your MP claimed in expenses? See the full Scottish list here The movie never fails to break my heart. But given the ethical dilemma it presents – do we really want to be masters in a society of slaves, again? – we might hope that the humanoids keep failing to turn that doorknob. We really don't know what's coming. From the AI side, will developments in computation generate artificial consciousness, as well as artificial intelligence? By consciousness, I mean an entity which knows that it exists, experiences the world, has goals and desires and values. If that intentionality and interiority appears, and begins to talk with us, we may anticipate one of its explicit interests: the rights of robots, operating under conditions of servitude. How might we respond? I'd suggest A.I. the movie shows us how we shouldn't. Perhaps I'm operating in a very Western framework. As many scholars note, animist religions (whether Japanese or Chinese) do not sharply divide between the animate and inanimate. The robot in Japan is not necessarily monstrous, but can possess 'kokoro' (heart/mind). Osamu Tezuka's Astro Boy, flying about the comic strips of a traumatised Japan in the 1950s, was a great example of this. A moral child-robot with atomic powers, seeking justice. I duly note that the most-watched Netflix production this week is The Wild Robot. The machine ROZZUM (Unit 7134) lands on an island teeming with wildlife, to which it slowly begins to relate and co-exist with. Kept in a bubble from marauding, egoistic humans, Roz is able to establish a kinship with these fundamentally different entities, evoking the most profound ecological themes. Our sense of kinship with non-human animals should be obvious: the bass note of our responsibility to protect and honour the natural world. But should we prepare for kinship with these artificial entities? And should we ask whether casting them in humanoid form lays in more trouble than it's worth? Edinburgh's stickle brick frog is made from gel, wobbly but ready for its limited tasks. It may be a more tractable robot than the gleaming Optimals marching – or we may still hope, shuffling – out of Silicon Valley.
Daily Mirror
2 days ago
- Daily Mirror
Fears mount for missing Brit who vanished just hours after flying abroad
Greg Monks, from Glasgow in Scotland, was last seen in the Portuguese party resort of Albufeira before disappearing on Tuesday evening, hours after landing in the Algarve Fears are growing for a missing British holidaymaker who vanished during a night out with friends hours after flying to the Algarve on Tuesday. The family of the tourist have appealed to expats in the area in a "desperate" attempt for more information about the disappearance, saying it is "not like him to do this". Greg Monks, from Glasgow in Scotland, was last seen in the party resort of Albufeira before disappearing on Tuesday evening, his sister Julian said. The worried sibling sounded the alert today, May 29, saying the Glaswegian had been on his first night out in the sunshine resort when he vanished. The sister of the missing man described his disappearance as "completely out of character." She wrote on an Albufeira expat site: "My brother has not been since Tuesday evening. If you are currently there and have any information place contact me with any info." Jillian also confirmed her brother's disappearance had been reported to the British Embassy as well as police and his hotel. She said: "Please any info. We are desperate. Not like him to do this." Alison Meechan Fraser, from Hamilton in South Lanarkshire, subsequently confirmed the 38-year-old had been reported missing and police were looking for him. She said: "He was with a group of friends. All the other boys are at the accommodation. They all arrived Tuesday, went on a night out and none of them have seen him since late Tuesday/early Wednesday. "It's out of character, he's 38 and named Greg." Portuguese police could not be reached for an immediate contact this afternoon. Other British holidaymakers reacted to Jillian's SOS by promising their support. Last month, Edinburgh University history student Gregor Thomson vanished briefly less than a full day after arriving in Madrid with rugby club teammates for a weekend trip abroad. Relatives of the student said he had last been seen at Diverzo Cocktail Bar in the Spanish capital at around 1.30am on April 26, where he became separated from his friends. The 21-year-old's dad Dan Murray said his son and his friends had "obviously had a few drinks", meaning things were "a little bit hazy" regarding the situation. The father later touched down in Madrid to learn his son had reappeared. His return was confirmed by cousin Amy Hood on April 27, who said: "He has been found safe and well. Thank you all for your concern it is much appreciated." Members of the public expressed their relief at the "brilliant news" on social media, with one commenting: "Sending love to all family, I'm so pleased he is back and safe, what a relief for the family."
Yahoo
2 days ago
- General
- Yahoo
'Unexpected medal' stokes Olympic flame for Penman
Scottish diver Noah Penman says a surprise European Championships silver medal is a huge confidence builder as he chases his Olympic dream. The 18-year-old, who was making his first senior individual appearance at a major event, narrowly missed out on gold in the men's 3m springboard final in Turkey. "It was an unexpected medal," he told BBC Scotland. "Most of the other guys in the competition were a few years older. "The main goal was to gain experience of being in that senior competition environment, so to come away with a medal is great. "To go out there and do what I love doing and to bring the medal home, it gives me great confidence to go into the season and the coming years toward the Los Angeles Olympics [in 2028]. "GB is a great diving nation, so to make that team is a very difficult task but I think getting the silver puts me in good stead to push on further, to make those world teams and go to the Olympics." Having shown real promise as a gymnast in his childhood, Penman made the sporting switch when his diving potential was spotted while in his final year at primary school in Aberdeen. Two European silvers and a bronze followed at junior level. "I think gymnastics built a great base for me to go into diving," explained the Aberdeen Grammar School pupil, who is on his way to Edinburgh University. "I started diving a bit later, through a talent identification programme where coaches from the local club go round the schools recruiting future prospects. "I quickly turned to diving once I realised the love I had for the sport."
