Some of you will be familiar with the slightly scary social psychology research known as the ‘Stanford Prison Experiment’. It investigated the psychological effects of perceived power and took place in 1971.
I spent today with a clutch of matrons, is “clutch” right? Better than “gaggle”? I don’t think “herd” works.
I am sitting outside a cafe in Brighton with a friend talking about life and watching the clouds.
I ’m chatting with a friend I haven’t seen for a while. Lovely man, works far too hard, last did exercise in 1989, likes Chardonnay and won’t leave it alone until it likes him back.
A recent report from the Academy of Medical Sciences suggested that the public were confused by information about medicines and that the leaflets should be less scary.
Back in the mid-1980s a third-year student nurse was charged with showing me, a first-year student nurse, how to give a depot injection.
So we have these new cats. We got them through the RSPCA. One of them is a proper cat: skilled in the ways of cat, bounds around the garden like Zorro, walking tightropes, chasing birds, teasing next door’s dog.
A drug that can reverse aspects of ageing has been successfully trialled in animals by scientists at Erasmus University Medical Center in The Netherlands.
I haven’t watched a horror film since seeing The Exorcist in 1974. I snuck into it while still underage, imagining I was thumbing my nose at the man. It absolutely terrified me. All spinning heads, satanic taunting and Mike Oldfield. I have avoided scary films ever since.
There is something quite British in being too embarrassed to acknowledge a crisis. I remember doing a home visit years ago – a gentleman let me in and took me through the house where an older, fairly large woman, was sitting on her kitchen floor leaning against the fridge.