Chamber and committees

I welcome this chance to highlight to Parliament the hugely important work that Epilepsy Scotland does as an organisation. Specifically, I want to mention the research and recommendations that it recently published on the impact of epilepsy on mental health.

Epilepsy is not an uncommon condition, and yet it continues to be very commonly misunderstood, and those misunderstandings often have a real impact on many people’s wellbeing. It is important, therefore, to make one distinction from the outset: epilepsy itself is not a mental illness. Much of the stigma that has, in the past, been applied to epilepsy has, in fact, been grounded in that very equation of those two things. It is a misunderstanding that, 150 years ago, stepped neatly into the space that was then just being vacated by earlier public assumptions that had placed epilepsy firmly in the supernatural realm.

Such widespread public ignorance of what epilepsy might be is complicated further by the fact that the condition takes so many widely varying forms. In any case, Epilepsy Scotland’s survey has shown us that 54 per cent of people with epilepsy feel that their condition has

“had a ‘significant impact’ on their mental health.”

One in three people reported depression and half described anxiety. A lack of awareness among the public is but one of the factors that lie behind those very concerning figures.

I will highlight just one of those issues, which is something that people in urban Scotland might recognise perhaps less than those in rural areas. Somebody losing their driving licence, which is a requirement for anyone whose symptoms are not controlled, means that their chances of finding employment, or at least employment that uses all their talents, decline very steeply. The survey found that 61 per cent of people described epilepsy as having had an impact on their employment.

Employment, or the lack of it, is, in turn, a factor that drives a sense of isolation. Again, the report bears that out, with 72 per cent of people reporting that epilepsy had affected their social life. One case study, Nicola in Orkney, had this to say:

“I really struggled with losing my driver’s licence. I lost all my independence and really had to rely on other people to take me places because we weren’t really on a bus route. So it was a case of making sure I had a lift from”

my

“partner ... or my mum or dad. They were really good ... but ... I hated asking all the time.”

I developed epilepsy when I was 17. I hesitate to claim that epilepsy had any direct effect on my own mental health—I was possibly not even fully aware of the issue, because I do not recall mental health even being a widely understood concept in those days. However, it was probably because I was very fortunate. At the worst point of my condition, I generally had only about eight or nine seizures a year—far fewer than many other people—and, after a process of medical guesswork, medication eventually bought my symptoms completely under control after about 15 years.

I am not quite certain that, when I was young, I treated my condition with the respect that it deserved, which was probably due to the pretty limited information that was then available to me about it and the only very occasional opportunities that I ever had to meet anyone who might remedy my ignorance.

My own seizures included one that happened when I was working on a ship, while another seizure conveniently gave me just enough warning for me to jump off my bike. One happened in a pub, before I had even had time to order a pint. Another happened doing a job interview, in which—I am pleased to say—I gained employment. One took place in a student political meeting, in which, I understand, debate raged during the several minutes of my unconsciousness as to whether or not someone should raise my hand to vote for me, there being quite a close vote at the time. One seizure occurred during some very misjudged hitchhiking through a war zone and resulted in my coming to in a Croatian military hospital, with no ill effects.

I am pleased to say that, since the days of my youth, the sources of information and support for people with epilepsy in Scotland have increased dramatically, in no small measure due to the work of Epilepsy Scotland, representatives and members of which are in the public gallery, as well as through the work of Scotland’s national epilepsy centre.

Epilepsy Scotland has, for instance, a helpline service that includes check-in calls. Officers with counselling qualifications will call someone once a week for 10 weeks to let them talk about their worries and any issues related to their epilepsy. However, there remains a huge amount still to be done, as Epilepsy Scotland’s report has now shown us.

The report concludes with some important recommendations, and I hope that the Minister for Public Health and Women’s Health may be able to reflect on some of them in summing up, in the light of the Government’s commitment to step up support for mental health services more widely.

Among those recommendations are the need to continue to grow

“the number of mental health-trained professionals (including counsellors) available to people ... with epilepsy and to increase the level of understanding of epilepsy amongst those working in mental health services ... To increase the number of in-person support groups for people living with epilepsy and their families ... For”

all agencies

“to work collaboratively to create a strategy to improve the mental health of people living with epilepsy ... to increase public awareness of epilepsy to the wider public for improved societal understanding”

and

“To ask health boards ... to consider steps for routine screening of mental health issues in epilepsy clinics with immediate referral to mental health support where required.”

I take the opportunity again to commend the work of Epilepsy Scotland—a sentiment that I know will be shared by the cross-party group on epilepsy in this Parliament. In particular, I draw attention to the work that Epilepsy Scotland has done in its report. The report highlights effectively how epilepsy is a condition with a very human impact on very real people.

Professor Werritty recommended that NatureScot should have the power to impose fines. Can NatureScot clarify whether we are now talking about that and, if not, should we be?

Would you have the power to impose fines?

On that point, to be fair, that is true of every piece of legislation that has subsidiary legislation or regulations or dependent licensing based on it. We have been through many bills in this Parliament and we have had this discussion. There is an issue of carts and horses here. Yes, we can scrutinise licences, but we cannot scrutinise them until we have legislation to empower organisations to have licences.

I will ask about resources. We have heard a bit about the task that NatureScot would face in licensing muirburn. What are the resource implications for NatureScot? Is the organisation confident about being able to meet the requirement?

I am content with that approach, and I do not sense any movement to annul the instrument. I just want a clearer idea of what the letter to the Government will say and, roughly, its tone and content.

It appears to have been given comfort on that point, which presumably is not the same as its having seen the bill.

I hope that my question, which is about the period of section 16AA licences, will be reasonably quick. The bill sets out that licences must be for a period that does not exceed one year. Is that the right period?

Do you really mean indefinite licences?

I appreciate that there is not much that you can comment on, but, looking at the proposal as a police officer, what is your opinion on its workability?