The Linkage study (and team) will be taking a break over the summer period. We will be back up and running the Autumn period.
If you have any urgent queries with regards to the study or your participation, you can call 020 7670 5700 or alternatively email the team at Camden-Linkage@ucl.ac.uk
The Linkage study team were thrilled to be awarded the "I can Prevent Delirium" award for their efforts in research at the Delirium conference in Newton Aycliffe.
Dr Davis and the Linkage team have recently published the protocol for the study! You can access it here: Protocol
A member of the Linkage team recently spoke with Esther Whitby who has very kindly shared her blog on behalf of the study. Esther stated that writing her blog is a new hobby for her and discusses her own personal views on ageing in her post "Body Parts" which you can access here: "Body Parts" by Esther Whitby
We would like to thank Esther for sharing her post with us and we hope you also enjoy reading it.
A member of our team recently spoke to Sue Verney about her experience of delirium after a mastectomy in 2000. She told us that 'the memory of the colourful hallucinatory dream when on morphine is still very clear' and the second part of the poem actually refers to how the flowers by her bed looked like a garden.
We would like to thank Sue for sharing this poem with us and we do hope you enjoy reading it.
It seemed like a Mantegna painting.
Strong colours but muted, with a pale hue.
All was quiet but blue shadowy figures
crossed the lower surface to and fro.
Above, a white palfrey cantered smoothly
over a green sward, its lady rider clad
in a magenta robe, riding side-saddle.
She gazed up intently at the object
travelling in front of her overhead:
A pure white breast led by its nipple,
was speeding across an azure sky,
trailed by transparent tentacles.
It looked unsullied, fearlessly detached.
Was this a half remembered mural in Mantua?
A friend's voice sang an English folk song,
softly but clearly: ' William Taylor has enlisted,
for a sailor he has gone..' Bouquets of flowers
came into focus, like a herbaceous border in May.
Sleep followed again. Then a hearty voice,
'Would you like a sucky sweet, dear?'
It was hard to answer, except to slightly
shake the head. At the end of the bed
a large smiling lady: a volunteer visitor.
' I lost both of mine ten years ago,' she said,
' and here I am, right as rain.'
She tapped her frontage. 'All false..
You'd never know, would you?
You'll be alright, dear.'