Day Seventy-one: If we carry on like this we’ll hit a hundred in record time. Regular readers of the missives coming out of the house of isolation will have noticed a downturn, a flattening of the curve if you will, and a gradual decrease in energy and enthusiasm. Continue reading
Category Archives: health
Day Seventy: I suppose I ought to address the big talking point of the day, before it passes by and gets replaced by the next pin for the media to try and knock down. Continue reading
Day Sixty-three: One of the surprises in the tv schedule during lockdown has been Retreat: Meditations from a Monastery it makes for very tranquil viewing.
Set in three Benedictine Abbeys observing the monks conducting prayers and services has a calming effect, a bit like that feeling of reverence and history when you step inside a church or minster. Even if you haven’t the slightest shred of religion in your body, there is still that sense of awe, a stillness, call it what you will, that comes over you.
I’m not saying I’d like it for myself but it is endlessly fascinating watching the monks carrying out their duties, taking their meals, in complete silence. It offers an insight into a different way to live, and being on my own at the moment and largely silent, and somewhat meditative, there are undeniable parallels that can be drawn.
At times it is as if someone just left a sound recorder running and you are listening to field recordings. There are birds trilling in the abbey grounds and bees in the apiary; the grinding of the hoe on dry earth, a brush being cleaned in a jar of water; the tolling of the bell, the call for compline for psalms and song.
I’ve always liked listening to plainsong ever since I was introduced to Taverner by my music teacher. There was that brief craving for monastery music in the nineties, with the unlikely new age/Gregorian chant smash hit Sadeness by German producers Enigma. Quite often Morse will feature church music, Libera Me for instance, then there was Cadfael, of course I watched that for the dashing Hugh Beringar, the Sean Pertwee incarnation. It’s very distracting and not all helpful, when the actors face, voice and hair colour changes repeatedly.
The most recent of the Retreat series featured Belmont Abbey in Herefordshire and another absorbing watch as Father Alex painted a religious icon of Archangel Michael, the patron saint of the abbey. It’s a Catholic Benedictine order and I don’t know whether they have unsavoury beliefs or doctrine, but from the outside it looked like a very peaceful existence. Of course I had a quasi-religious upbringing by the Christian Deaconesses from the Sisterhood of the National Children’s Home, until I was adopted. I have scant memory of that time but there are some moments which appear in writings and poems from time to time.
qua vos gaudium et pax
Day Sixty-two: I wrestled back power from the furry bunch but it came with a price, I can’t do so much screen time right now. I missed a friend’s party last night, it wasn’t at the forefront of my mind, I was just focussing on keeping this room in the house of isolation the right way up.
Salvation comes as it does on Sundays, along side relief from dizziness and nausea, in the form of art and Bluebeany’s Art Club. I’ve got quite a collection of work now enough to have my own lockdown retrospective. Magical beings, Mythical beings… almost immediately I knew I was going to do something to do with the Kraken, that giant cephalopod, scourge of the deep, deep blue. There are pictures aplenty of tentacles rising from the water dwarfing the masts and rigging of tall ships floundering in the waves.
I flicked past all those classic images and came to this one and it made me smile and Christ could we do with some smiles right now.
It could be an analogy for the virus or the initial perception of the virus, on the surface you see one thing but just behind, is a whole helluva a lot of something far bigger. I added the da-dum just to give him a voice. The important thing is that for two hours I lost myself trying to copy this drawing freehand. I like it.
I got a doctor’s appointment Monday afternoon, not a face to face but an over the phone. It’s pretty good timing seeing as I’ve been feeling poorly lately. By the way I think I know what it is, the reason I’ve been feeling dizzy, sick with chills, they are all side effects of one of my meds. I matched them up and if you add the occasional numbness and tingling in thumb and finger I got a full house.
Screw you lockdown!
Day Sixty-one: The bears have taken over the asylum. This one is in charge and he is Oswald and he has a disagreeable air. There’s something off about the way he looks straight through you.
Roden didn’t want the job, he’s taking lockdown very seriously, and remains in his room waiting for the sun to rise again. I haven’t the heart to tell him its just a stick on moon. Ozzie not to be confused with Oswald, is only interested in his music, and the oldest bear Bert, has never gotten over getting his stomach ripped out by an over zealous Staffie.
The reason behind the bears take over? Well I’m still feeling fragile but I’m fine really. If you do feel the need to size me up for a wooden box, make sure you leave some foot room, don’t want to be spending all of eternity with cold ankles.
Roden as you know, was introduced to me in Leicester, Ozzie is from Saltburn, he was liberated from the amusement arcade on the pier. I cannot remember where Bert came from he may have been a raffle prize or perhaps a gift for finishing my A ‘levels’.
Oswald just appeared one day, moved in and carried on glaring for the next ten years. He’s like a little bear dictator, bossing everyone around. You all better pray for my speedy recovery otherwise you’ve got Oswald until June 30th. I think that was his plan all along, maybe it was he who poisoned me? I’ll have to interrogate him later…
Bears Rule in the house of isolation!
Day Sixty: Woke up late switched the radio off, went back to sleep for an hour woke up later. Had a yoghurt and a coffee. Looked at the pears suspiciously opted for honey on toast.
New jar opener arrived yesterday, most exciting, so I will be master of all the cooking sauces, bleach bottles and juice drinks from now until queendom come. I bathed to the sound of Pink Floyd’s Division Bell, I’d hoped for the full album but halfway through it flipped to Echoes, so was immediately relived I’d not opted for mushrooms for breakfast. I considered washing my hair with the new Tea Tree conditioner, but decided to put that particular excitement on ice till Sunday. The washing was still wet in the drum from last night where I’d forgotten to take it out, so I put it on another cycle and checked the post.
New movies from Shandie in Leeds for Cinema Paradiso include Muriel’s Wedding, I saw a doco on cult Aussie movies last week sometime, and that this little beauty was among them, so will be watching that as soon as I’ve finished talking to you nitwits.
Face on and hair done I sat down for a meeting with the Sisters of Ink and we made plans for some more live recording and ridiculed Bojo for shits and giggles. I’d had a Galaxy hot chocolate on the go when I suddenly felt crook. I looked at the floor as my ears popped a bit bringing on my Tinnitus like crazy. Reaching for the blanket I felt cold as ice and I dropped on to the sofa, the room was spinning my head was pounding and I felt sicker than a dingo with rabies. Can you tell I’m looking forward to watching the film? I didn’t move until gone seven, I must have slept and I woke with a sudden need to eat, without thinking I started peeling spuds, badly I might add, then similarly carrots in cavalier fashion. I made some tea and sat on the kitchen floor and drank it. Dug out some chicken bunged in the oven and sat on the kitchen floor a bit longer. Remembered I had to still put the washing on the dryer, cursed myself for not doing it earlier, had a sniff smelt conditioner put it out and stuck it next to a radiator. Wandered upstairs, wandered back down again, put the potatoes on, wandered back upstairs put fresh sheets on whilst imagining a world without poppers, buttons can do one, especially those that you have to button backwards so they sit inside the duvet. Put pyjamas on radiator, nothing better than toasty jamas: I’m so flaming cold these days, just cannot get flaming warm. Missed Channel 4 News twice, decided it was a good thing and ate my tea after rearranging my food cupboard on a whim. Chucked out some very old hot chocolate and sat down to write this rubbish.
Movie Time thanks Shandie!
Day Fifty-nine: I could talk about the fact I lived on Zoom today, a Listening Party this morning with Drake Music where I was particularly interested in the partnership between two of my friends namely Sallie Currie and her band The Dyr Sister, and visual artist Bluebeany. You can see the kaleidoscopic results of their collaboration below on new track The Rainbow Song.
Or maybe that I recorded yesterday’s poem on Place on Zoom earlier, flying solo on the video conferencing platform for the first time. Then I caught up with my good friend and colleague Jerome on Zoom. Around teatime I had a food delivery from food bank volunteers and not forgetting the fact I went out to have my blood test.
That little venture was tense, but having planned my route I made sure I had escape routes should the path have gotten crowded. A big day, much going on in the house of isolation but so much going on just outside the door now with the ludicrous decision to ignore the fifth test set out by the government and demanding people go back to work without test, track and trace in place. There is now a real risk in resurgence in the transmission of the virus now.
And yet without a recovery from this crisis the chaos of life post-covid, will be long-lasting and felt across the globe. Huge swathes of the country will be plunged into financial free fall, hitting the poorest in society the hardest. Poverty will lead to even more ill health, physical and mental, as we each grieve for our personal losses, some, more grave than others, but each as valid.
I can’t realistically imagine when we will be able to be close again. We may, and I stress may because who can trust any figures presented after the last few weeks, have been spared huge numbers of death in our region, but with warmer weather and freedom of travel, we will have an influx of people in weeks to come.
Then there are all those who have to be shielded, what about them? How long realistically can you stay without human contact, without going outdoors for any meaningful length of time?
It doesn’t look good.
Day Fifty-eight: Spent some time with Vicky online, Vicky Foster the founder of WoW, she invited me in and I grafted the Sisterly of Hull on to my skin. Now Vicky is here in my room, on my screen inviting me to write during lockdown: write about Place.
Having spent the morning in a gown of the dressing variety, I made an effort to pull on old jeans and a comfy jumpey and then I was ready. That little bit of preparation is important to portion this time off from all the other portions of time: change seat, table direction, room if you can.
I can’t tell you how much fun it was seeing Vicky doing the tutorial, it came as a complete surprise, you could have knocked me down with a feather, when she said, “Hello and welcome, my name is Vicky Foster,” in that familiar Hull accent. I enjoyed the early exercises and the abstract questions to provoke more poetic imagery. I’d never thought about asking what the time tastes like…and using place in different timeframes worked well for me I think. But I mustn’t spoil it, if you choose to have a go yourself, which is the point and if you feel like sharing your writing to this prompt, you can do on Twitter just use #WriteFromHome and @FirstStory. And just so you know I had my hot chocolate while writing.
Here’s mine it recounts the last time I saw my sister.
In other news, I had a phonecall from a friend, another from a colleague and a further one from my nurse checking on whether I’ve got a new cough, temperature -you know the drill- ahead of my blood test tomorrow. A blood test which means a walk to the surgery, out there.
Wish me luck!
Day Fifty-seven: I want to talk about identities tonight, I touched upon the idea of identity linked to occupation in an earlier blog. Put simply in my case it works like this ‘I write therefore I am, I perform therefore I am.’
The second is symbiotic, it needs an audience to become all it can be. Writing is mostly a solitary occupation and the need for an audience is important but isn’t dependant on whether the writing is complete. In lockdown without the multi-stemmed stimuli of modern life, where so much time is spent with just your thoughts, and your thoughts appear to take on great depth. I suppose this is about feeling vulnerable putting life on the page in this daily blog ritual.
Identities, I rebuilt mine over a number of years. As I write I imagine that this process is not unique to me, but we all move through life trying the air breathing it in to see if it agrees with you. We pick up new aspects and discard others, make room for the new and abandon old behaviours and beliefs. Our identities are not fixed, they are amorphous and as plastic as the grey matter where perhaps identity lies. Identity lies.
A friend of mine suggested that maybe due to the constrained times now might be the time to put aside the creative career, being a professional artist, and get a real job to go legit we might joke. The creative pursuit can still be there but perhaps can be more because it is not dependent on funding bids, and meeting funder’s criteria and goals and audience targets and all the things that get in the way of being an artist today.
Opportunities will be slim picking, thin on the ground, when we finally move out of lockdown and begin to open up the Arts sector. There will be huge pressures on organisations just to stay afloat, never mind deliver outreach programmes, commissions and all those things that keep freelancers biting and believing they can make it. Maybe now is not a good time to pursue a career in the creative arts, but it might be a good time to create. In whatever way that might be, however that looks to you. I’m aware this feels like me spouting my privilege all over the page when thousands are just trying to survive, but my world is much smaller now and I can only write for me.
writing words every day does strange things to you
Day Thirty-five: After hearing about the selling off of Bob Dylan handwritten lyric sheet containing the songs ‘The Times They Are A-Changin’’, ‘Subterranean Homesick Blues’ and ‘Lay Lady Lay’ going up for auction: starting price if you’ve got any spare cash a cool $2.2 million, I picked Jody McKenna as my morning music. Continue reading
Day Twenty-eight: For many artists their work forms an important part of their identity, and in these days of distancing it is not easy to find opportunity to get in touch with that creativity inside of us. This blog has been a conduit for my voice and a platform for the thoughts and ideas running through my head on a daily basis. Continue reading
Day Twenty-One: It has all gone a bit Shakespearian, vaulting ambition springs to mind. The news is that Bojo our erstwhile leader has not just gone into hospital for tests, but has been transferred to an Intensive Care Unit at St Thomas’s Hospital. Continue reading
Day Fourteen: That is two weeks lockdown. Ten to go or if you take it from the date of the letter it’s eleven like all the other twelve weekers. I’ve not been outside, outside for ages it occurred to me that all this time I’m not wearing my trainers out which I almost certainly would have done in normal times. Continue reading
JOY DIVISION HAD A SONG CALLED ISOLATION
DAY SEVEN: We are effectively in lockdown. We knew it was coming I think, especially after the fools at the weekend ignored the warning and flocked to the seaside, like it was May Bank Holiday. People don’t believe it’s that serious, that it won’t affect them, maybe now they will stay at home and save lives instead of risking them.
I remain with no symptoms thankfully and continue to self isolate. I took delivery of my medications today from Healthcare at Home. The driver left the package inside the door and I collected it with gloved hands and my mouth and nose covered. I thank them for continuing to get this vital treatment to people with underlying conditions during this crisis. I hope that continues.
I am scared for my friends and family if they should contract the disease just like everyone else will be. I hope people will act on the new advice and stay home, to support the NHS in their fight to bring Coronavirus under control if at all possible.
I have to say again thank you to everyone who has helped me and continues to help me dropping of essentials or ringing up and having a chat. And to all the people who are caring for others, dreaming up new ways to connect communities, entertain, stimulate and provide distraction to the isolation keep doing it, it may be the difference between getting through this relatively unscathed.
I’d cross my fingers but that ship sailed months ago.
Stay Safe Stay Home Save Lives!
Day Six:Despite promises to support workers of all types freelancers and self-employed at this moment are being thrown to the wall. The Universal Credit Application online will be a nightmare, the information online is standardised and fails to mention corona virus once. I predict a rise in suicide from claimants unable to convince govt robots of their need. There are so many criteria points to hit about hours worked and previous earnings and a host of other qualifications. First thing my mum asked on the phone this morning was whether or not I’d applied yet, if not why not…? CLICK TO SIGN PETITION
I suppose I’m hoping for something a bit more direct and funnily enough universal. I know I’m lucky, I have food in I could survive my electric is topped up to twenty quid which equates to twenty days approx… I could survive? I will survive I’m talking like there is a choice there really isn’t. I’m sure lockdown real lockdown is on the way, after hundreds of covidiots fled to the coast for a last hurrah. You can bet your last quid that corona was getting busy among the crowds.
I did get to do something positive today by contributing to a podcast celebrating mums produced by Hull Is This called Reflections For Mother’s Day LISTEN HERE . We also explored some ideas about putting the next Women of Words event online in some shape or form.I hope this week brings some clarity, can’t realistically hope for a breakthrough we are in this for the long haul, it may even be a global game changer. Maybe this is the start of a new era in human civilisation? (I know that’s questionable looking at the scenes in the local supermarkets, civilised is hardly the word you would use to describe them)
Our Commander in Chief Bojo is scared for his political future, and doesn’t want to go down in history as the PM who shutdown the UK. He pussyfooted around at the beginning of the week, asking people to socially distance and self isolate, rather than ordering the lockdown and losing us a week in the fight.
The figures tell a stark story: since I started this blog the fatalities due to coronavirus have increased by 400%. The daily increase was in 30s now they have jumped up to increases in 60s, and there’s nothing to suggest the daily increase won’t be measured in 90’s at some point this week.
20,000 deaths is a good outcome, they said, and that’s with restrictive action, without the distancing and isolation measures, then that figure rises considerably. How do you know it’s not going to be your mum, dad, child, grandparent, friend, colleague, carer, lover…? You really don’t. Don’t risk all our lives.
Stay Safe Stay Home Hull!
Day Five:Yesterday I thanked everybody who has helped me this week but I forgot to mention the person who put me in lock down as long ago as last Saturday. She saw the writing on the wall long before we did and stocked my freezer for me ( no more than one of things but enough to get me through 2/3 weeks) And she did that because I can only carry two half bags of shopping at a time due to my stupid hands, so to do the same I’d have had to go to the supermarket at least four times. So thank you Barbara for seeing what was coming and for being the first person to come to my aid. I know you’ve a tough week ahead and I am crossing everything for you.
Anyway I feel like I’m defending myself, and I’ve been in self isolation all week. I’ve not touched another human apart from elbows since last friday. ‘Writing on the wall…’ I should have known its biblical in origin Book of Daniel if you want to follow it up.The financial uncertainty continues I need someone to tell me what I should do apply for Universal Credit now, or wait for some other measure that might be quicker and more direct.
Momentarily I forget that this is happening, then I remember and think it’s just so incredible, in the real sense of the word, how can this be our 2020? Two weeks ago I went to theatre, three workshops and had gigs booked in the Minster and in libraries Hull and Halifax and other work, vital to my survival and sanity and identity, and now it’s gone. I’ll close because I can hear the chimes of doom…
Stay Safe Hull!
Day Four: SELF-ISOLATION FOR THREE MONTHS, SIX MONTHS, TWELVE MONTHS… who knows? What I do know is that this week I have been helped to make this transition into lockdown far easier than it could have been.The death toll is rising the number of confirmed cases has doubled to near on 4,000 and we have as a country gone into lockdown now. Whatever the new normal is it begins in earnest now. Cartoon By Niall Murphy
It is strange watching weather reports, this weekend is forecast for blue skies across the country but this means very little to us now, since we can only go out for essentials, work and maybe that vital bit of social distanced exercise for an hour. What else is weird is my dad using text speak writing Luv u (he uses his phone to send a text message about four times a year, if that)
Also adverts are weird too, the people in adverts are living in a world before the virus, images of family dinners, urging us to go and buy a new sideboard during the SALE NOW ON. I imagine advertising will change to meet the needs of the new society… And I know if we don’t get this right there will be no society.
How do we finance this new normal? Dishy Rishi Sunak may well be PM in waiting he’s certainly endeared himself to the UK with his announcements of rescue packages for businesses and workers of all kinds. I’m not clear if the Universal Credit/ Statutory Sick Pay Rate plus £1000 is the whole thing. I worked it out as approximately 459.00 a month from which rent, utility bills and council tax has to come out which for me is around 430.00 a month leaving 29.00 a month for food. If I have got the initial figure wrong please do correct me… it’s rather difficult to focus on numbers right now.
For now the only number in my head is the number of people who have helped me this week and they deserve naming so thank you to Nick, Ruth, Cilla, Mo, Susan, Jo, Tamar and her mum, and George and Sadie. Thanks to those ten people who have made massive gestures of generosity and time, I am eternally grateful, and I hope in time I can find a way to say thank you.
STAY SAFE HULL!
Day Three:It’s been a day of witnessing and experiencing kindnesses with the stories of people picking up prescriptions for strangers, gin distilleries making hand sanitiser (there’s a line I never thought I’d write) delivering food parcels, and my two friends making arrangements, so I can stay in touch with the online world a bit more.
The whole world is moving online faster than KC Lightstream. It’s not just distance learning, but distance yoga, distance theatre, virtual open mic, streaming festivals against the virus… not to mention all the updates from the govt. about new regulations and advice for the best ways to beat this thing.
After our walk we discussed how we might do an exercise class through the window, maybe even learn some new choreography for my solo celebratory dance when all this is over: 12 weeks should be just enough time.
I had my blood test today its a regular one that I have monthly, to check that the proteins on my joints aren’t going nuts. But it could be worse. I could have kids who I’m trying to keep entertained indoors while isolating, or a loved one who I can’t be with because of symptoms, or vulnerability status. So many variations on this isolation theme.Massive applause for my nurse and the rest of the nurses, and the entire NHS Team who are doing everything possible and more besides, to prepare and care for the patients who have or will get this virus.
So what’s coming down the line? To coin a popular phrase with Bojo. Actually my mum said on the phone that everyone’s fate lies in the lap of Boris Johnson… which is not the most pleasant of pictures. It was good that she rang me, I was grateful for the call.
I was not grateful for the call from the woman asking me whether I wanted to switch my gas supply. Are they now targeting people because they know they are at home more? I wasn’t sure if it was a scam, she asked me for my postcode and I wished her a good day and hung up. You can’t be too careful these are strange days.
I slept well last night for the first time. I wasn’t alone I took an old teddy bear with me. Don’t know why I had this sudden impulse but it worked, and I’ll do the same tonight and hope I wake up still hugging him. Finally big shout to the SOTG crew… you know who you are.
Stay Safe Hull!
Day Two: The big news is that schools across the UK are to be closed as of friday, in an interesting move and to perhaps pick up on all those unable to do distance learning through a lack of tech capacity, daytime tv is to be populated with educational programmes. I did wonder if schedules would change because let’s face it, daytime telly is not likely to aide your time in isolation. I remember Larry the Lion or was it Lenny helped us with our reading I think back in the late seventies.
Now also on tv a local news report of an South Asian medical doctor received racial abuse on her way to work to help combat the pandemic. What kind of small-minded idiot starts shouting and abusing someone and blaming them for the Coronavirus because of their race? Just utterly appalling and the fact it was here in Hull. Despicable!
There has been much to cheer about today, really heart-warming tales of people supporting others including yours truly. I had a visit from Dr Babs Danish with a bag of essentials which she left on the doorstep for me. So today’s entry is sponsored by Sainsbury’s own brand Cranberry Juice and cookies. Dr Babs also sent me a couple of songs from a singalong she did with her family last night: one that called for us all to open our minds… always a good idea and one a really beautiful duet of Fleetwood Mac’s Dreams. I also got given some very welcome fruit from my designated carer – my mate Jo – who comes to do my meds each week now.
They’ve just upped the dosage to counteract the pain spasms from my arms and shoulders.There was a glorious half hour tonight, where as best I could, I joined in the online dance class. All day we’ve heard people finding innovative ways to connect with audiences, customers, clients, friends and strangers…
So it was with our dance class going live with Tamar and Jo sharing some adapted phrases for us all to try, live from the living room and having a lot of fun while dancing. It’s these things I think will in weeks to come become like touchstones for humanity… these moments where via screen you can be yourself, do what you love doing.
That’s all for today the numbers are rising I feel for all those who are struggling, a word to all those families who have loved ones in lockdown in residential care homes, who they can’t visit. How do you explain to a severely disabled person that there loved ones can’t visit, and you can’t say when that might change.
Stay Safe Hull!
It’s getting serious out there, and those pictures of people lined up in intensive care units laid on their fronts, trying to fight off the virus, looks horrific. I have an auto-immune condition and take biologicals to treat it, so my immune system is continuously compromised. It makes sense to reduce contact, to do the Wuhan shuffle or the elbow thing… strange how these things have become so readily adopted.
I have no symptoms of Covid 19 – just realised the 19 is because it was first seen in 2019 – and apart from a heightened awareness of my own health I am fine as ever I have been. I jumped on a thread on social media asking for help with a stepladder to replace the bulb in my kitchen and Nick from the uber-talented Fonda 500 a muso’s band with a back catalogue as long as as your arm, rushed to my aid. I now have light in my kitchen so can cook safely after the sun goes down.
A good friend, a wise friend,to whom I am eternally grateful, foresaw this self-isolation scenario and did stock my freezer at the weekend, so I have food in. So today’s blog was brought to you by RITZ Crackers… the daddy of the cracker world. the only cracker you’ll ever wake up craving.
Isolating at this moment in time does not mean NEVER leaving the house, I took a walk for an hour to get some fresh air and exercise. And I am lucky i have a network of friends who I can call upon to help me with daily life as I need it. So many others will not have this cushion of support.
I am a freelance writer and have been documenting the art scene in the city of Hull for many years, I also co-produce Women of Words the spoken word event series which was about to celebrate its 4th Birthday. We are currently postponing April and May’s events after following the government’s reducing social contact guidelines.
I felt the howl of despair from the theatres bars and clubs, as people were advised to stay away from venues. And watched as one by one gigs, performances, workshops, seminars and more were pulled, and applauded the immediate action by particular arts organisations and groups in recognising the very real concern of people losing their livelihoods.
Lets hope policy makers do what Euro countries have done and protect all those freelancers, self- employed, on zero hour contracts, working in the gig economy by providing statutory sick pay and financial support.
There’s much more to say, but I’ve suddenly got some spare time on my hands, so I’ll catch you all tomorrow.
Stay Safe Hull!
Something for all the family at Hull Dementia Collaborative’s event at St. Stephen’s this coming Thursday 9th August. Alongside all the information stands signposting services people will be able to enjoy live entertainment, interactive demonstrations, have a dance and get creative all under one roof. Continue reading
Clinic Tents. Research. The Butterflies Scheme and more…The family event organised by Hull’s Dementia Collaborative on 9 Aug 10 – 3pm at St Stephen’s Shopping Centre will host a busy hive of health-focused information stalls, highlighting services and sources of support available locally.
In addition to the information stalls there will be Clinic Tents, opportunities to sign up for vital research programmes and other health initiatives on show such as the Butterflies Scheme for hospital in-patients. Continue reading