Friday, February 18, 2011

I was out yesterday picking up a prescription for my mother-in-law. She's been prescribed patches for the severe pain in her hips and groin. The problem is she has developed an allergic reaction to whatever sticks the painkilling patches to her skin.

The prescription was for an ointment or a cream to counter this discomfort. But the doctor had forgotten to specify which: ointment or cream. And i waited a while in the chemists and then gave up and came home.

Came home to an utterly different world.

To find a worried message from someone in Creative Scotland warning me there was to be an article in today's Scottish Sun attacking them, and me, for their decision to give me a grant to turn JESUS QUEEN OF HEAVEN into a book.

It was a curious feeling going to bed with to await that in the morning. The attacks on the play had taken me entirely by surprise, and so this was different. The article, when it came, was the usual despicably predictable display of prejudice. Of hostility against transgender people; of hostility against arts funding.

It's what you expect from a whole section of the so-called "free" press.

I won't post a link to it because it's not worth anyone's attention. It did, however, contain a quotation from Hugh Henry, a Labour MSP who really should know better.

My son-in-law's dad came across it while he was getting his hair cut, and came home spluttering with indignation. Paul, who's renewing the pebble dashing on my outside wall, hadn't seen it but said "no-one takes any notice of the Sun anyway".

And what's impressed me also has been the support I've received: from kind friends, from the Traverse, from Creative Scotland, transgender support groups, and above all from my daughters. How blessed I am...

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