Seòmar agus comataidhean

Approximately one in three people over the age of 65 in Scotland fall each year, while about half of those who are over 80 fall at least once a year. Falls are the most common reason for an ambulance being called for an older person, and they are a leading cause of hospital admissions for unintentional injuries. In winter, slips on untreated pavements increase the number of falls, but the cost to the NHS, the Ambulance Service and accident and emergency departments of hospitalisations and perhaps social care after hospitalisation can be reduced. Gritting pavements is the responsibility of local authorities, but will the cabinet secretary consider authorising NHS boards to provide funding to local authorities specifically to help them to grit pavements? I have no doubt that that would prevent at least some falls, which have a cost not just for the individuals’ health but for the public purse. Why not pilot that approach and see whether I am right?

They are, indeed.

What John has accomplished was done not for reasons of self-aggrandisement but because of a determination to sweep away the misconceptions around the condition, to help others in the same position and to support their families and the wider public. John’s life is an example of how personal experience shared bravely and honestly can shape public attitudes for the better. I have no doubt that it has been tough for him—and for others—and will continue to be so. He is still dealing with the condition and, certainly, there is still public opprobrium, but the new film that I referred to will ensure that his message reaches a whole new public.

I thank John and others for what they have achieved and will continue to achieve, and I say this: only he could have done it in this way, with determination, dignity, authority and humour.

In Midlothian, peat is still being extracted. It is dug up commercially through a licence under the Town and Country Planning (Scotland) Act 1997, which requires only 50-year periodic reviews of licences for mineral permissions. The issue is one that I have pursued for some time. Given that it seems bizarre and even counterproductive for that legislation to allow peat extraction to take place over 50-year periods while the Scottish Government is pledging to restore peat, will the Government undertake to review it?

Go away!

I congratulate the member and colleagues on their contributions to date, but it would not be possible to contribute without speaking of our late colleague Christina McKelvie, who died earlier this year from metastatic breast cancer. That cancer spreads to another part of the body when cells break away from the original tumours in the breast and travel to other parts of the body. It can come back months or years after the original diagnosis and treatment, and almost 30 per cent of women who are diagnosed with early-stage breast cancer develop metastatic disease.

I understand that Christina attended a breast screening programme in December 2020. In February 2021, she announced a short medical leave, and another short period of leave followed in September, after which she told us that she had completed treatment for breast cancer. She was also told then that she was in remission, and back came the old cheery, breezy Christina—her worry, her fears and her tears, she kept to herself and her nearest and dearest. In June 2022, when the breast cancer charity moonwalk event was held in Edinburgh for the first time in three years, she participated as part of a cross-party team of women and also sponsored the wear it pink campaign.

However, last year, Christina was diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer and went on leave in August 2024 to focus on her treatment. I remember her coming shortly before that to tell a wee group of us, with our coffee, that they had found a large lump on her neck. We feared for her but, of course, said nothing, because there was nothing to be said. She died earlier this year, aged only 57.

Within a few years, she had coped with breast cancer, rung the bell and got back to her smiley, stylish self—her hair had grown back—only to find that this cruel disease had returned.

Christina was unlucky, if I may put it like that, but she tried many treatments. That said, many people live long, productive lives with stage 4 breast cancer, with a variety of treatment options and new medicines being tested every day. If one treatment stops working, there is almost always another one to try.

Support is key at any time, but perhaps especially when cancer returns, after all the treatment, side effects, hair loss and remission—it is cruel. I hope that many have support from family and friends, as Christina had, particularly in her partner, Keith Brown. However, the family, too, will need support. There are professionals and charities such as Macmillan Cancer Support and Breast Cancer Now, community nursing teams, general practitioners and specialists, and even Citizens Advice can help with benefits and other financial or legal issues. It is bad enough coping with the disease without money worries.

I thank my colleague for securing the motion for this sensitive debate in the chamber and for the opportunity that we have had to remember our colleague. As we are, she would, at the very least, have been looking to improve treatments and slow the progress of the disease while seeking a cure, and she would have urged there to be better access to support and care, all of which require, as colleagues have said, better and accurate data.

To ask the First Minister what discussions the Scottish Government has had with the United Kingdom Government regarding the implementation of the proposed scheme for the renovation of military homes in Scotland. (S6F-04415)

It will not surprise you, Deputy Presiding Officer, that, apart from congratulating my colleague Audrey Nicoll on securing the debate, most of my speech will be dedicated to the River Tweed and its tributaries.

First, however, I will take a wee detour to Galloway—to Rose cottage in Minnigaff. It is where I lived for more than a decade, with two rivers right at the bottom of my garden: the Penkiln and, just beyond it, the Cree. My early experience with rivers was close and observed, with the salmon run in the Cree—the poachers gaffing the fish at night—and the brown trout in the Penkiln when their dorsal fins were exposed to the air because the summer had reduced the river to a wee stream. I saw scary flooding when the two rivers and the mill that lay beyond merged into a sea, with Rose cottage’s garden disappearing below the muddy waters. I saw kingfishers and herons, and I encountered Japanese knotweed for the first time, which was not at that time considered to be an ecological predator.

My love affair with rivers was born then and continues today with the grand old lady: the River Tweed. I even made a point—you might call it a pilgrimage—of going to where it is reckoned the Tweed has its source, which is high above Tweedsmuir, inconspicuous and with not a hint of the grandeur to come.

Our villages and towns have naturally grown around rivers—back then, the rivers were their dual carriageways—but their source of power must not be taken for granted. Two issues that require our attention are pollution—deliberate and casual—and the real and recurring threat of floods where floods did not occur before. We have come to realise that, and not before time.

The Tweed flows 97 miles to the North Sea at Berwick-upon-Tweed, forming part of the boundary between Scotland and England. It travels in my constituency through Peebles, Innerleithen, Walkerburn and Galashiels. It is one of the most ecologically important rivers in the United Kingdom, supporting Atlantic salmon, otter, lamprey and water crowfoot vegetation. Much of the catchment is designated as an area of special conservation and a site of special scientific interest. To this day, even though textile industries, which once perched precariously on its banks, have all but disappeared, it still supports local economies including angling, tourism and agriculture. Of course, it is central to the entire cultural identity of the Borders.

However, the Tweed, like other rivers, faces pressures from diffuse agricultural pollution, invasive non-native species and river bank erosion. Protection and restoration are delivered through co-ordinated catchment management plans under the water framework directive, local action plans, the Scottish Borders habitat action plan and SEPA’s Tweed area management plan. Those provide key policy frameworks to protect water quality and habitats.

Flood protection is major. Although sandbanks have not quite been consigned to a superfluous sandbank pile, other more creative methods are being implemented. I reference, as I have done before, the Eddleston Water project, which, by making it wind and through suitable waterside planting, has methodically changed the direction of the water and slowed Eddleston Water’s flow onwards to join the Tweed. More of such flood protection is done upstream these days.

From Penkiln to Cree to Tweed, I confess that, for me, there is a romance about rivers. They dictated where we live today, what industries we once had and those that we have now. I am with Mr Sweeney: rivers should have rights, if that does not sound a bit strange.

Again, I thank my colleague Audrey Nicoll for giving me the opportunity to praise rivers and speak about their protection. I cannot have too many debates about rivers.

I am delighted that the UK Government is, at last, set on remedying the state of some military housing. I represent Glencorse barracks, which is in my constituency, and am well aware of how tough it is already for the families of servicemen and women who do not have a settled home and are nomadic on account of their partner’s postings. The very least that they deserve is decent accommodation, so I give a big tick to that.

However, the recently published 124-page UK “Defence Housing Strategy 2025”, makes only four references to the devolved nations and the use of surplus MOD land for civilian housing takes us straight into the issue of devolved competencies. Paragraph 3.13 of the strategy says:

“It is important that the Defence Housing Service works in a collaborative way across the UK Government”

and

“devolved governments”

but it appears that there has not been any collaboration. Will there be any, or is that another trampling over devolved powers?

It is a bit rich for us to hear about economics from the party that brought us Liz Truss.

The issue of the potential closure of leisure facilities is entirely a matter for the Tory-led council in the Borders. At its meeting this week, the council was supposed to review those issues, but it has postponed that process until 10 November. Does the cabinet secretary agree that that is dreadful and that it increases the anxiety of all the workers and the people who rely on the facilities?

On a point of order, Presiding Officer. I had a similar situation to Bill Kidd. My phone would not connect for the vote.