All-powerful Theresa dispenses with normal rules of human interaction

There was a time when Theresa May cared that the public considered the Conservatives to be the “nasty party”. That time has long past. Now Theresa is ruler of all she surveys. She has created the world in her own image and it is good. With Labour posing little threat and surrounded only by flatterers, the prime minister has absolute power.

And with that absolute power has come an absolute lack of self-criticism. She no longer notices nor cares what people think. She even imagines that saying the word “Inc-red-i-ble” in the manner of a 1970s comedian on the sex offender register is funny. Prime minister’s questions has come to this.

Jeremy Corbyn had chosen to use all six of his questions on the prime minister’s decision to override a court judgment to extend personal independence payments to people with mental as well as physical disabilities. It should have been a good call on the Labour leader’s part, as picking on people with dementia and mental illness is not generally a good look for a government. Theresa, though, was outraged that anyone should dare question her judgment.

“No one is going to see a cut in their payments,” she said, wilfully missing the point that the real issue was the 120,000 people who wouldn’t now be getting the money that the judiciary had said they should have.

Corbyn then accused her of trying to sneak the changes in legislation through parliament without consultation. The prime minister narrowed her eyes. How dare he talk to her like that? How very dare he? Any member of her cabinet who took that tone would be out of a job.

“We made a written ministerial statement to the house last Thursday,” she replied, her voice pure ice. “And the work and pensions secretary left a message on a voicemail.” She didn’t sound entirely sure whose. Or when.

By any normal standards a written statement and a dodgy voicemail could count as sneaking, so Corbyn had another go. “The government has over-ridden an independent court decision,” he repeated. Theresa shrugged. So what? What was he going to do about it? She wasn’t that bothered what the Labour leader did or didn’t think.

Yes, it had been a bit unfortunate that her policy chief had appeared to rubbish people with mental health issues as pill-popping timewasters who sit around at home all day, but he probably had a point. There were too many people moaning and droning about feeling depressed and anxious who just needed to do a decent day’s work. Far better to cut inheritance tax rather than add to disability handouts. Anyone could see that.

As it dawned on him that the prime minister wasn’t in the slightest bit interested in people with mental health issues, Corbyn began to lose some of his focus; the normal rules of human interaction clearly no longer applied and he had no frame of reference. Most people would at least be a little embarrassed at having their indifference shown up, but Theresa was now borderline sociopathic.

Theresa drummed her fingers on the dispatch box. She was tired of talking about people with disabilities. What she wanted to talk about was her fantastic byelection victory in Copeland. Could someone ask her why she was so marvellous? There were any number of Tory sycophants only too willing to oblige.

Andrew Bridgen got in first. Did she agree with him that the Tory success in Copeland was entirely down to the prime minister’s own brilliance? This was much more like it. “Yes,” she replied. It was entirely down to her own magnificence. The idea that winning the byelection might have more to do with Labour being completely useless was just absurd.

But even talking about herself wasn’t enough to conceal her sense of boredom. She wasn’t the only one. As she went on to yawn her way through a tough question from the SNP’s Angus Robertson on devolved agriculture and fisheries powers, large gaps began to open up on both benches. PMQs used to play to a packed house, but May and Corbyn have turned it into something entirely missable.

All-powerful Theresa dispenses with normal rules of human interaction

Musical interaction brings harmony to dementia individuals

Music therapist Greg Hunford and musicians from Manchester Camerata foremost a Music in Thoughts session in Crewe for elderly individuals with dementia Jack Burrow and his wife Vera who joined him in the session. Photograph: Christopher Thomond for the Guardian

Vera and Jack Burrows met as teenagers. “Childhood sweethearts,” explained Vera, brightly. “Then he dumped me when I was 17 and married somebody else and we didn’t see each other for 54 many years. We have been at a dance and he explained: ‘Is that you, Vera? I can recognise you from your thick ankles!’”

In spite of this risky chat-up line, the pair have been engaged within 4 months of their reunion – after Jack split up with 3 other lady friends. (Vera: “He utilized to get them identical Christmas presents so he didn’t get them mixed up.”)

5 and a half many years into their really happy marriage, Jack had a stroke although roasting a chicken, and has in no way returned residence. Ever since he’s been living in Station Home care house in Crewe. Now 86, he is lost his speech and has rising memory difficulties, but his bawdy sense of humour is very much intact.

Vera, a quite glamorous 84 with turquoise eye shadow and a cloud of blond hair, had accompanied Jack to a particular music session at the care house run by the music therapist Greg Hanford, director of MusAbility, and musicians from the Manchester Camerata chamber orchestra.

Overseen by Manchester University, it is element of a 10-week pilot project named Music in Thoughts, funded by the charity Care Uk, which runs 123 residential homes for elderly people. The aim is to locate out if classical music can enhance communication and interaction and lessen agitation for people in the United kingdom residing with dementia – estimated to number just in excess of 800,000 and set to rise rapidly as the population ages.

The Crewe project is the fourth Music in Mind pilot. An evaluation of the very first three, by the Manchester-based thinktank New Economic climate, located that some participants no longer had to be medicated soon after taking portion. Carers reported reduced agitation, much better moods and improved posture residents who had been slumped in their chairs raised their heads to get an energetic part.

“The energy of music treatment enables, excites, enthuses, entertains,” one musician informed New Economy. “It really is like opening the window of a stuffy space and allowing scented fresh air to waft in, lifting the spirits, altering the nature of the space.”

Jack’s session concerned flautist Amina Hussain and French horn player Naomi Atherton, two of 7 Camerata musicians qualified in dementia awareness by the Alzheimer’s Society, and a specialist nurse. Along with Hanford, two care staff and Jack (with Vera at his side), had been two other residents: Pete, who has only one particular leg, and Taff, a tattooed Welshman who was keen on the tambourine.

Proceedings began with Hanford strumming his guitar and singing hello to each participant in flip. Jack clucked a return greeting, Pete looked straight ahead and Taff managed a delayed hello.

To an outsider, it at first felt somewhat infantilising and all also reminiscent of a mom and little one singing group. But by the end of the half hour, the males were engaged in a rather moving overall performance, with Pete gently tapping out a rhythm on a cymbal, Taff shaking a rainstick and Jack on bells, all accompanied by globe-class horn and flute.

“There is a crossover, or at least parallels, between functioning with really youthful children and men and women with dementia,” said Hanford afterwards. “The ‘hello’ song is anything I use with all various kinds of men and women. But keeping dignity is at the heart of what we are performing.”

“We have to make confident we do not child anybody,” explained Hussain. “We have to don’t forget these are men and women who have led full lives, with jobs, families. At initial you do wonder if they believe you’re a appropriate plonker, coming in and providing them brightly coloured instruments.”

Gill Capewell, actions coordinator at Station Property, stated she initially anxious the knowledge may possibly be also daunting for residents. “I considered there would be a complete orchestra. I did not realise how subtle it would be.”

Atherton mentioned she volunteered partly as a outcome of the death of her father, who produced Alzheimer’s in his late 60s. The operate brought huge rewards for the most subtle developments, she mentioned: “Like Pete right now – when I put the ocean drum in front of him, his fingers have been twitching.” Yet another time, a resident with a extremely limited, fixed pattern of conversation finished her sentence in a way that showed she was engaged, she additional.

“It can be like viewing a flower open, at the danger of sounding dreadfully cheesy,” said Hussain.

The musicians encourage individuals to live in the current, rather than the past, exactly where several have typically taken refuge. “Typically in care residences they sing war songs, which could be really good but what if it triggers a undesirable memory? That’s the past. We want them to be residing in the second,” mentioned Atherton.

Most other music treatment with this group tended to be efficiency-based, mentioned Hanford. “The Liverpool Phil, for instance, plays to patients. What’s occurring right here is massively various due to the fact we’re employing music treatment as an intervention. It is like the distinction among watching Television and making use of the net. A single is interactive.”

But does it need to have expert musicians? Hanford explained Manchester Camerata’s involvement was a luxury, admitting this kind of perform mostly demanded persistence and creativity rather than virtuoso capacity. But Hussain said her knowledge was essential: “We are able to talk with music really subtly, in a way that, for example, a grade eight player might not be able to. It could be that subtle distinction that connects with a person.”

Musical interaction brings harmony to dementia individuals