The End of Men(10)
I’ve now written to fourteen newspapers around the world. I have sent Health Protection Scotland eight e-mails and called twelve times, not a single one of which has been answered. I’ve e-mailed the WHO in London and Geneva nine times. I. Am. Screaming. Into. The. Void.
The news is showing the descent of Glasgow and Edinburgh into the nightmare of a pandemic. The army has been brought in to drive ambulances, fire engines and trucks carrying food to and from farms and factories and supermarkets. Makes sense when you think about it. Have you ever seen a female truck driver? Dundee and Aberdeen have just announced the closure of schools on Friday, which might be the most laughable public health policy I’ve ever heard of. Yes, that’s a good idea, let’s slow down the spread of this almost-always fatal virus just a wee bit. Give it a long weekend, see if that cheers it up so it won’t kill the Primary One class on Monday.
The people in charge need to listen to me. They are wasting precious time. I’m cooped up in my house with sons whose fear grows by the day as they follow the mushrooming panic of the Plague on Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat, their phones always glowing in their faces. Charlie said yesterday, his thirteen-year-old voice sounding far higher and more like a child’s than it has in years, “Mum, Taylor died.” My first thought was Who’s Taylor? But that wouldn’t have been a helpful response. “He actually died,” Charlie said in wonder before going up to his room, playing unbearably loud music and shouting at me as I came in every ten minutes to “check if you wanted anything to drink” (check if he was trying to kill himself).
Sometimes being a doctor makes me a worse parent emotionally but a better parent practically, and this is one of those times. I never think, “Oh, he’ll be fine.” In the course of my career I’ve seen over a hundred girls, boys, men, women who’ve killed themselves in minutes, brought to hospital still warm by parents and spouses who never imagined they would kill themselves. The ones who everyone was worried about go straight to the morgue. They tend to plan it better. My sons are alive because I have somehow kept this awful disease out of this house and away from them. But they are starving for my care and affection and I cannot give it to them. I don’t hug them. I don’t cook their food. I don’t go near them if I can possibly help it. I cannot be too careful when their lives are at stake.
Every minute that my e-mails go unanswered is another minute away from a vaccine. This Plague is not just going to flit away into thin air. It’s only going to get worse, and everybody is wasting time. I’m a doctor, not a pathologist. I can’t fix this, but if no one listens to me, then how are we ever going to fix it?
Will thinks I’m being silly. He thinks that the authorities are working on this “behind the scenes” and actually, they just haven’t announced it. I say bollocks. Everyone I’ve ever met involved in public health policy or politics would drown their own granny to get some good press. They would all be crowing about “having this all in hand” and “the finest minds in the country working on a solution.” There’d be a task force. There’s always a task force. If anybody was listening to me, I’d know it, but instead there is only bleak, awful silence and time being wasted.
E-mail from Leah Spicer ([email protected]) to Richard Murray ([email protected]), Kitty McNaught ([email protected]) and Aaron Pike ([email protected]) at 9:20 a.m. on November 19, 2025
Richard, Kitty, Aaron,
Please can one of you call me urgently. No response from Daniel in Edinburgh. I’m swamped here. Louise hasn’t come to work all week. I’m trying to finalize infection protocol but unsure of best way forward as it is gender neutral but we need different policies for men and women now? All hospitals in Greater Glasgow have declared an emergency and Queen Elizabeth’s has started turning away men from A and E. Mobile is 07884647584. Please call as soon as you can. Very, very urgent.
E-mail from Richard Murray ([email protected]) at 9:20 a.m. on November 19, 2025
Thank you for your e-mail. I am currently out of the office with an illness. If you require urgent assistance, please contact another member of my team.
E-mail from Kitty McNaught ([email protected]) at 9:20 a.m. on November 19, 2025
I am out of the office on compassionate leave. I will reply to your e-mail on my return.
E-mail from Aaron Pike ([email protected]) at 9:20 a.m. on November 19, 2025
I am currently out of the office due to ill health. Please try contacting another member of your case team if your query is urgent.
ARTICLE IN THE TIMES OF LONDON ON NOVEMBER 20, 2025
“Exclusive: Scottish doctor who treated first patient says ‘This is the new plague and it’s only getting worse’”
by Eleanor Meldrum
I wish I could tell you what Dr. Amanda Maclean is like in person but I can’t. She wouldn’t meet with me out of fear that I would be a host of the “Plague,” as she calls it, a mysterious virus with a high mortality rate that has quickly caused havoc in Scotland. There are also a number of reported cases in Manchester, Newcastle, Leeds and London. When I assured Amanda over e-mail that I was not infected, she responded, “You have no way of knowing that. Women are asymptomatic hosts. When I treated two of the first cases I quickly realized that the only link between them was a female nurse.”