bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025 huggingface dataset:
The Living Soil
Authors: White Robert E.
Published: November 2020

Soil is the living “skin” of the earth’s terrestrial ecosystem. Like skin, it is bom-barded by the sun’s radiation, wind, and rain and abraded by all manner of objects scraping its surface. Unlike skin, after an initial phase of weathering, soil develops primarily from the surface downward as plant and animal residues are continually added to the surface layer. These organic residues nourish a diverse population of organisms, feeding on the dead residues and on each other. In turn, they release mineral nutrients in an interminable cycle of growth, death, and decay, commonly called the carbon (C) cycle. Figure 5.1 is a diagrammatic representation of the C cycle in a vineyard. Green plants use energy from the sun to make carbohydrates, and subsequently proteins, lipids (fats), and other complex molecules, for their own growth and reproduction. As plant tissue matures, biochemical changes take place that lead to senescence; leaves yellow and eventually fall. In a perennial plant such as the grapevine, leaves are shed in winter but roots grow, age, and die all the time. Prunings may also be returned to the soil. Collectively, the above-ground plant material returned to the soil is called litter. Below ground, root fragments that are “sloughed off” and C compounds that leak from living roots constitute rhizo-C deposition. This below-ground C material is a readily accessible substrate (food) for microorganisms, which proliferate in the cylinder of soil surrounding each plant root, a zone called the rhizosphere. The rhizosphere is also the zone from which roots take up nutrients, as described in “The Absorbing Root,” chapter 3. When digesting and decomposing C substrate derived from litter and in the soil proper, organisms obtain energy and essential nutrients for growth. In so doing, in a healthy soil, they consume oxygen (O2) and release carbon dioxide (CO2) to the air below and above ground, thus completing the C cycle. Directly analogous to the process described for nitrogen (N) in chapter 3, C is said to be immobilized in the bodies of the soil organisms and mineralized when it is released as CO2.
French Nuclear Energy: Concentrated Power
Authors: Araújo Kathleen
Published: November 2020

Nuclear energy is one of the most significant sources of low carbon energy in use in the power sector today. In 2013, nuclear energy represented roughly 11% of the global electricity supply, with growth projected to occur in China, India, and Russia (International Atomic Energy Agency [IAEA], n.d.a; NEA, n.d.). As a stable source of electricity, nuclear energy can be a stand-alone, base-load form of electricity or complement more variable forms of low carbon energy, like wind and solar power. Among the energy technologies considered here, nuclear energy is complex not only for the science behind it, but also for its societal, environmental, and economic dimensions.This chapter explores the rapid rise of French nuclear energy in the civilian power sector. It considers what a national energy strategy looks like under conditions of high concern about energy supply security when limited domestic energy resources appear to exist. The case reveals that centralized planning with complex and equally centralized technology can be quite conducive to rapid change. However, continued public acceptance, especially for nuclear energy, matters in the durability of such a pathway. France is a traditional and currently global leader in nuclear energy, ranking the highest among countries for its share of domestic electricity derived from nuclear power at 76% of total electricity in 2015 (IAEA, n.d.b). France is highly ranked for the size of its nuclear reactor fleet and amount of nuclear generation, second only to the United States. In 2016, this nation of 67 million people and economy of $2.7 trillion had 58 nuclear power reactors (CIA, n.d.; IAEA, n.d.b). Due to the level of nuclear energy in its power mix, France has some of the lowest carbon emissions per person for electricity (IEA, 2016a). France is also one of the largest net exporters of electricity in Europe, with 61.7 TWh exported (Réseau de Transport d’électricité [RTE], 2016), producing roughly $3.3 billion in annual revenue (World Nuclear Association [WNA], n.d). This European country has the largest reprocessing capacity for spent fuel, with roughly 17% of its electricity powered from recycled fuel (WNA, n.d.).
Brazilian Biofuels: Distilling Solutions
Authors: Araújo Kathleen
Published: November 2020

Worldwide, transportation accounts for roughly a quarter of the total final energy demand and a similar share of energy-based carbon dioxide emissions (IEA, 2016f). The transport sector has the most homogenous of fuel mixes, with petroleum-based products accounting for roughly 95% of the overall final share (Kahn Ribeiro et al., 2012). Biofuels and other options, like electric vehicles, have the potential to displace a notable portion of petroleum and CO2 emissions in the transport sector. Global use of ethanol, the most widely used among biofuels, has grown significantly in recent years. Between 2000 and 2010 alone, ethanol utilization increased 350% worldwide, with trade increasing by a factor of 5 and usage equaling 74 billion liters in 2010 (Valdes, 2011). This chapter examines the underlying roots of the biofuels transition in Brazil. Two micro-shifts—one that is government- led and a second that is industry-led—are evaluated, demonstrating how a new, energy market and industry can develop at a national scale through the retooling of existing industries and infrastructure. Insights on policy inflections, market longevity, and dual-use technology are also covered. Brazil is the historical leader in biofuels and the only country to substantially alter its automotive fuel mix with ethanol, shifting from 1% in 1970 to 34% in 2014 (see the section entitled “Modern Transition” later in this chapter). Ranked sixth globally for its population of roughly 206 million people and eighth for its economy of $3.1 trillion in mid-2016 (CIA, n.d.), Brazil has been a leading pioneer in the production and export of ethanol, its principal biofuel. In 2015, Brazilian ethanol equaled 28% of the global supply (Renewable Fuel Association [RFA], 2016). The country is known for having the lowest production costs of ethanol (Goldemberg, 2008; Shapouri, and Salassi, 2006; Valor International, 2014). Brazil also has a unique distribution network of more than 35,000 fuel stations supplying the renewable fuel (Agência Nacional do Petróleo, Gás Natural e Biocombustíveis, 2008).
Top Drugs
Authors: Li Jie Jack
Published: November 2020

Drugs like Lipitor, Plavix, Taxol, and Zoloft are integral in today's medicinal world. These widely used products save lives and improve the quality of lives, playing a crucial role in everything from cholesterol management to cancer treatment. These advances in medicine were brought into existence after nuanced process of creation, featuring a wide range of chemical and pharmacological experimentation and discovery. Top Drugs: Their History, Pharmacology, and Synthesis provides an in-depth study on ten prominent drugs, outlining the chemistry behind each one's creation. Jie Jack Li, a medicinal chemist and an expert on drug discovery, offers a thorough analysis of the landscape of current drug development. The comprehensive text is divided by health issues, including cardiovascular, cancer, metabolic diseases, and infectious diseases. Each section features individual chapters on significant drugs, outlining the chemistry and history of the drug's discovery. Li begins each chapter with the product's history, providing necessary context. Li then proceeds to describe the mechanism of action, structure-activity relationship (SAR), bioavailability, metabolism, toxicology, the discovery route, and the process route. Top Drugs: Their History, Pharmacology, and Synthesis will acclimate students, scientists, and interested laypersons to the world of chemistry and drug discovery.
Introduction
Authors: Caradonna Jeremy L.
Published: November 2020

As hard as it might be to believe, the world once made do without the words “sustainable” and “sustainability.” Today they’re nearly ubiquitous. At the grocery store we shop for “sustainable foods” that were produced, of course, from “sustainable agriculture”; ministries of natural resources in many parts of the world strive for “sustainable yields” in forestry; the United Nations (UN ) has long touted “sustainable development” as a strategy for global stability; and woe be the city dweller who doesn’t aim for a “sustainable lifestyle.” Sustainability first emerged as an explicit social, environmental, and economic ideal in the late 1970s and 1980s. By the 1990s, it had become a familiar term in the world of policy wonkery—President Bill Clinton’s Council on Sustainable Development, for instance— but the embrace wasn’t universal. Bill McKibben, perhaps the most prominent environmentalist of the past 30 years, wrote an opinion piece in the New York Times in 1996 in which he dismissed sustainability as a “buzzless buzzword” that was “born partly in an effort to obfuscate” and which would never catch on in mainstream society. In McKibben’s view, sustainability “never made the leap to lingo”— and never would. “It’s time to figure out why, and then figure out something else.” (McKibben preferred the term “maturity.”) Many others have since accused “sustainability” and “sustainable development” of being superficial terms that mask ongoing environmental degradation and facilitate business-as-usual economic growth. Those are debatable points that will be discussed in this book. But one thing is clear: McKibben was quite wrong about the quick decline of “sustainability.” One way to demonstrate this growing interest is to look at book titles that bear the word “sustainable” or “sustainability.” It’s difficult to find books published before 1976 that employ these words as titles or even as keywords. Indeed, as Figure 1 shows, no book in the English language used either term in the title before 1970. But since 1980 there has been an explosion of books and articles that not only use those words as titles but also deal with the many facets of sustainability.
Streams and Dreams and Cross-site Studies
Authors: Johnson Sherri L.
Published: November 2020

The influence of the Long-Term Ecological Research (LTER) program on my science has been to broaden my scope through exposure to long-term research and to encourage me to explore major questions across biomes. Communication and outreach with natural resource managers and policy makers has given me insight into translation of science and shaped my research. Through my experiences in the LTER program, I began collaborations with stream ecologists and biogeochemists across sites, which expanded into a high-profile research project that spanned several decades. I encourage scientists to work at LTER sites because they are supportive science communities with a wealth of information to share. Currently, I am a co–principal investigator at the H. J. Andrews Experimental Forest LTER project (AND) in Oregon and have been involved with LTER sites most of my professional life. In 1990, I began graduate research on freshwater shrimp responses to a hurricane at the Luquillo LTER site (LUQ) with Alan Covich, my PhD advisor at the University of Oklahoma. My involvement with LTER research expanded during my postdoctoral fellowship. Through the LTER All Scientists Meetings, I met Julia Jones and other researchers from AND. With their encouragement, I received a National Science Foundation (NSF) Postdoctoral Fellowship Grant in 1996 to examine stream temperature dynamics at AND. After several years at Oregon State University, I was hired by the US Forest Service (USFS) Pacific Northwest Research Station in 2001 as a USFS scientist for AND and became a co–principal investigator in 2002. I have had the benefit of being mentored for multiple years by Fred Swanson and have gradually assumed lead USFS responsibilities for AND. As a stream ecologist, I have studied basic questions and applied issues involving water quality, water quantity, and stream food webs, primarily in forested streams. My research at the LUQ site has examined responses of fresh water shrimp to disturbances and their role in ecosystem dynamics. At AND, my research exploring patterns and controls of stream temperature began as a theoretical landscape-scale question and expanded to examination of temperature responses to flow paths, calculations of heat budgets, and policy implications of forest management (Johnson and Jones 2000; Johnson 2004).
Coda: Some Reflections on the Long-Term Ecological Research Program
Authors: Schlesinger William H.
Published: November 2020

Ecology has a history of long-term studies that offer great insight to ecosystem processes. The advent of the Long-Term Ecological Research (LTER) program institutionalized long-term studies with some core measurements at a selection of sites across North America. The most successful LTER sites are those that have an energetic leader with a clear vision, who has guided the work over many years. Several LTER sites have established successful education programs for K–12 and college-age students, as well as for science policy-makers. Implementation of more and better cross-site work would be welcome. The various essays in this volume reflect a broad range of experiences among participants in the LTER program. Nearly all are positive: only mad dogs bite the hand that feeds them. All authors appreciate the advantages of long-term funding for their research and lament that funding of the LTER program by the National Science Foundation (NSF) is so limited. There are numerous testimonials for how the LTER program has changed and broadened participation in collaborative science. The real question is whether the LTER program has allowed science to proceed faster, deeper, broader, and with more critical insight than if the program had not been created. To answer that question, I offer a few personal reflections on the LTER program. First, we must note that long-term research existed well before the LTER program. Edmondson began his long-term measurements of exogenous phosphorus in Lake Washington in the early 1950s (Edmondson 1991). Across the country, Herb Bormann and Gene Likens began long-term studies, now in their 50th year, of forest biogeochemistry at Hubbard Brook in 1963 (Likens 2013). Each of these long-term studies enjoys ample coverage in every text of introductory ecology. The advantages of long-term research are undisputed among those who are funded for it. Indeed, NSF embraces a wide variety of decade-long studies with its Long-Term Research in Environmental Biology (LTREB) program. The authors of several chapters recall how Howard Odum’s early work focused their attention on the connections between large units of the landscape.
The Mortuary Behavior at Sunghir
Authors: Trinkaus Erik , Buzhilova Alexandra P. , Mednikova Maria B. , Dobrovolskaya Maria V.
Published: November 2020

Considerations of the mortuary behavior at Sunghir concern principally the two elaborate graves, Graves 1 and 2. Although each exhibits patterns evident elsewhere in Mid Upper Paleolithic burials, the combinations of features and the richness of the two graves is truly exceptional. Yet there is additional evidence for mortuary behavior, principally associated with the Sunghir 5 cranium and for the burial above Grave 2 (here designated as Grave 2bis). The Sunghir graves have been described in detail by O.N. Bader (1998), and additional analyses of the associated materials have been done by White (1993, 1999) and Khlopachev (2006). Information on them is available from additional sources (e.g., Bader 1978; Soffer 1985; Abramova 1995; Bader and Bader 2000; Pettitt 2011), as well as from numerous short reports. Of these, the primary sources are those of O.N. Bader from the excavations and excavation analysis and of White and Khlopachev from analysis of the original material in the Vladimir District Regional Museum. The description here is an amalgamation of information from these and other sources. There are some inconsistencies between the different sources, and when possible they have been sorted out using the diagrams, and especially the discussion and in situ photographs, provided by O.N. Bader (1998). In the discussions of the graves and their contents, it should be kept in mind that many of the objects found in the graves and clearly associated with the human remains also occur in reasonable numbers in the cultural layer (cf. Bader 1978). This applies to the ochre, the several varieties of ivory beads, small stone pendants, animal figurines, tubular bones, pierced canines (arctic fox and wolf), and ivory spears (or fragments thereof). Additional decorative objects not found in the burials, such as shell beads and engravings, also derive from the cultural layer. It remains unclear whether these finds from the cultural layer were artifacts and aspects of body decoration that were common among the individuals at Sunghir (some of which happened to be preserved in abundance in the graves), whether their occurrence in the cultural layer is the result of pieces lost in the process of preparing the burials, whether the isolated pieces are from disturbed (unknown) burials, or whether (as suggested by Bader 1978) they come from discarded pieces of clothing.
The Aqueous Chemistry of Oxides
Authors: Bunker Bruce C. , Casey William H.
Published: November 2020

The Aqueous Chemistry of Oxides is a single-volume text that encapsulates all of the critical issues associated with how oxide materials interact with aqueous solutions. It serves as a central reference for academics working with oxides in the contexts of geology, various types of inorganic chemistry, and materials science. The text also has utility for professionals working with industrial applications in which oxides are either prepared or must perform in aqueous environments. The volume is organized into five key sections. Part One features two introductory chapters, intended to introduce the mutual interests of engineers, chemists, geologists, and industrial scientists in the physical and chemical properties of oxide materials. Part Two provides the essential and fundamental principles that are critical to understanding most of the major reactions between water and oxides. Part Three deals with the synthesis of oxide materials in aqueous media. Part Four deals with oxide-water reactions and their environmental and technological impacts, and Part Five is devoted to other types of relevant reactions. The Aqueous Chemistry of Oxides is the first book that provides a comprehensive summary of all of the critical reactions between oxides and water in a single volume. As such, it ties together a wide range of existing books and literature into a central location that provides a key reference for understanding and accessing a broad range of more specialized topics. The book contain over 300 figures and tables.
The Hydrolysis Products: Soluble Multi-cation Clusters
Authors: Bunker Bruce C. , Casey William H.
Published: November 2020

The term hydrolysis describes the acid–base reactions that remove protons from hydrated metal cations. This word derives from two Greek words: hydro, meaning “water,” and lysis, meaning “to loosen.” Hydrolysis provides two mechanisms for converting one soluble metal complex into another. First, hydrolysis converts coordinated water molecules into coordinated hydroxo- and oxo-anions. For isolated monomers, the extent of hydrolysis depends on cation charge, cation coordination number, and pH (see Chapter 4). For example, as the cation charge increases, complexes can be generated that go from water rich to hydroxide rich to oxide rich, as exemplified by the sequence of species [Na(H2 O)6]+, [Mg(H2 O)5 (OH)]+, [Al(H2 O)4 (OH)2 ]+, [Si(OH)4 ]° , and finally [MnO4]−. Second, hydrolysis activates hydrated cations to participate in ligand-exchange reactions. When the entering ligand is not another isolated water molecule, but involves a hydroxo- or oxo-ligand that is bound to another dissolved metal complex, ligand- exchange reactions are called condensation reactions (or sometimes olation reactions) because they condense small oxide species into larger ones. In condensation reactions, hydroxo- or oxo-ligands form bridges between two or more cations. Species created via condensation range from dimers, trimers, and tetramers to larger species such as [Al13 O4 (OH)24 (H2 O)12]7+, enormous clusters such as the 2-nm-diameter Mo72 Fe30 Ox (OH)y species, and eventually to colloidal particles and extended oxide and hydroxide phases. The complete set of soluble metal-ion complexes containing only water molecules, hydroxide ions, and oxo-anions are called the hydrolysis products. The hydrolysis products represent the minimum basis set of complexes that must be taken into account to rationalize the aqueous chemistry of any oxide or hydroxide phase. The acid–base and ligand-exchange chemistry of monomeric hydrolysis products is described in Chapter 4. In this chapter, we emphasize the polymerization and depolymerization reactions that lead to the formation and disappearance of larger multi-cation clusters.
The Electrochemistry of Oxides
Authors: Bunker Bruce C. , Casey William H.
Published: November 2020

Many of the critical reactions considered in this book involve the addition or subtraction of protons from oxides. In this chapter, we consider another species that can change oxide charge distributions and reactivity dramatically: the electron. Many oxides contain cations that have access to more than one oxidation state in water. Cations in these oxides can either donate or accept electrons to change their charge, or oxidation state. Oxidation reactions involve the loss of electrons as they are donated to other species, resulting in an increase in the cation charge or valence, whereas reduction reactions involve the capture of an electron resulting in a decrease in the cation valence. Below, the basics of electrochemistry are first described in the context of the redox chemistry of water and representative oxide systems. Second, we describe the fundamentals of electron-transfer reactions in oxides and the impact of electron transfer on the acid–base, ion-exchange, and ligand-exchange reactions of the host oxide. Finally, we discuss the behavior of oxides in electrochemical energy storage devices and the role that nanotechnology has in optimizing electrochemical performance. Electrochemical reactions are typically written in the context of the geometry of a battery or a galvanic cell. For the cell shown in Figure 11.2, which contains metal electrodes immersed in aqueous solutions containing solvated cations, the net reaction can be written as . . . Cu°(s)+2Fe3+ (aq) ⇄2Fe2+ (aq)+Cu2+ (aq) (11.1). . . In this reaction, Cu metal is being oxidized to form Cu(II), whereas Fe(III) is being reduced to form Fe(II). The individual oxidation and reduction reactions leading to Eq. 11.1 are referred to as half-reactions: Cu°(s) ⇄Cu2+ (aq)+2e- Eo =−0.34 V (11.2) 2Fe3+ (aq) ⇄2Fe2+ (aq)+ Fe 2- (aq) Eo =+0.77 V (11.3) . . . The net result of Eqs. 11.2 and 11.3 in the context of Figure 11.2 is the transfer of electrons from the Cu-containing compartment in which oxidation occurs, which is called the anode, to the Fe-containing compartment in which reduction occurs, which is called the cathode. This electron transfer generates an electric current, a charge-compensating ion current (in the salt bridge), as well as a voltage.
Artefacts
Authors: Harrison Rodney , Schofield John
Published: November 2020

In the Wrst part of the book we considered a number of influences on the emergence of an archaeology of the contemporary past, from the interests in contemporary small-scale societies that developed as part of the New Archaeology in the 1960s and 1970s, to the use of contemporary case studies to address particular archaeological debates about the relationship between material culture and social behaviour posed by post-processual archaeologists in the 1980s and 1990s. We have seen how the archaeology of the recent past began with a focus on the First and Second World Wars, and then the Cold War, eventually to encompass a Weld that is concerned with the archaeology of a much wider range of events that have only just passed or are still occurring today (e.g. Penrose 2007). In Chapter 3 we looked in detail at the sorts of Weld methodologies that are being applied by archaeologists of the recent and contemporary past, considering whether their Weld methods might be understood to be distinct from other forms of archaeology. In Chapter 4 we looked at the relationship between archaeology and other disciplines that focus on contemporary materiality, in particular anthropology, material culture studies, art, and documentary photography. And in Chapter 5 we explored some reasons why archaeologists might have developed an interest in the contemporary world, and the period of late modernity in particular, through an exploration of some of the conditions of late modernity that make it distinct from the periods that precede it. In the second part of the book, we look in more detail at how we might approach the archaeology of the contemporary world, with reference to a series of case studies. As you read through this second part, you will notice that one of its distinguishing features is its dual perspective. We consider on the one hand places and material practices that are essentially extinct or have ceased to function, and on the other those places and practices that are still functioning, or, in Tim Cresswell’s (2004: 37) words, are ‘still becoming’.
Neurological system
Authors: O’neill Colleen , Nestor Therese
Published: November 2020

This chapter aims to give you knowledge and understanding of the skills required to provide safe and effective care to a child presenting with a neurological disorder. The chapter will focus mainly on the more frequently encountered neurological conditions and procedures both in a hospital and community setting. In addition the importance of family centred care (Chapter Two) and a culturally sensitive approach to care will be discussed. ● The rationale for undertaking a neurological assessment and how to carry out a neurological assessment on a child. ● The important elements of care of the child with a head injury based on the best practice. ● Key responsibilities of the nurse before, during, and after a lumbar puncture procedure. ● Various approaches to neurological imaging and the main principles involved in preparing a child for these. ● The main causes of seizures in childhood. ● The main principles involved in caring for a child with a convulsive seizure. ● The nurse’s role in caring for an unconscious child. Good knowledge of national and local polices and guidelines in relation to this area are recommended to compliment learning in this chapter. Furthermore it is essential for students to have a good understanding of the anatomy and physiology of the neurological system when caring for a child with a neurological disorder. A thorough understanding and knowledge of the key structures and functions of the brain will assist in understanding neurological conditions and will help in appreciating the significance and relevance of monitoring neurological status (this section will concentrate mainly on the structure and function of the brain). Nevertheless, it is advisable to revise in more depth the nervous system in your core anatomy and physiology book. Knowledge from other chapters is also advisable in order to understand the interdependence between body systems and the brain.
The endocrine system
Authors: Corcoran Yvonne
Published: November 2020

This chapter aims to explore the nursing skills required to care for the child and family with an underlying endocrine disorder both in a healthcare setting and in the community. This chapter will include an overview of the anatomy and physiology of the endocrine system, related pharmacology and microbiology, and a detailed description of the main skills involved in caring for children with an endocrine disorder and their families. Endocrine disorders in childhood are generally of a chronic nature, therefore prompt, accurate treatment and management are essential to ensure normal development into fully functioning adulthood. Disorders of the endocrine system can manifest their effects immediately or in a more gradual manner over days to months. Endocrine disorders most commonly occur due to three main reasons: a disordered endocrine system, often as a result of a genetic abnormality; overproduction of a particular hormone; or underproduction of a particular hormone (Evans & Tippins, 2008). Type 1 diabetes mellitus accounts for approximately 50% of endocrine disorders in childhood with an incidence in children (0–14 years) of 13.5 per 100,000 in the UK (Raine et al., 2006). Although some general principles apply to the nursing care of children with an endocrine disorder, you will need to refer to local policy and be familiar with local protocols regarding the nursing management of these children and their families in the hospital and the community. It is anticipated that you will be able to do the following once you have read and studied this chapter: ● Understand the anatomy and physiology of the endocrine system and how it affects many of our bodily functions. ● Understand the predominant pathological conditions related to the endocrine system. ● Understand the key nursing skills required to care for a child with an endocrine disorder and their family. The endocrine system is a chemical communi cation system that consists of hormone producing cells, hormones, and receptors (Glasper & Richardson, 2006). This system regulates and controls the body’s metabolic processes including energy production, growth, fluid and electrolyte balance, responses to stress, and sexual reproduction (Baxter et al., 2004).
Reproductive system
Authors: Chenery-Morris Sam , Lynch Aileen
Published: November 2020

This chapter describes a number of clinical procedures related to the reproductive system that commonly occur in children. After completing this chapter you will have a working knowledge of the reproductive system and will have accomplished the following learning objectives. After reading this chapter you should be able to: ● Describe the anatomy of the female reproductive system including the external genitalia, the ovaries, the accessory reproductive structures, and the mammary glands. ● Describe the ovarian and menstrual cycles and the hormones that regulate them. ● Describe the anatomy of the male reproductive system including the external genitalia, the testes, the internal ducts, and the glands. ● Discuss the procedures involved in preparing the child for pelvic examination, demonstrating an awareness of the cultural, ethical, and legal implications of this examination. ● Explain and prepare the child for a swab procedure. ● Undertake the post-operative care of dressings on genitalia. Before embarking on this chapter it would be helpful to read through Chapter Two and Chapter Four, to provide you with relevant background skills required in this context. Informed consent and child protection are quite important related issues, and are covered in great detail in Chapter Four. The initial part of this chapter describes the anatomy and physiology of the reproductive system as a background towards understanding the relevant nursing care. This discussion is not intended to replace detailed study of anatomy and physiology, and for further and more detailed instruction on the topic you ought to consult a key text such as Martini & Nath (2008). The female reproductive system is regulated in a cyclical manner by hormones. The onset of the first menstrual cycle (menarche) occurs at puberty, and the female has the capacity to become pregnant up until the menopause, when the menstrual cycle ceases. The essential sex organs of the female reproductive system are the ovaries, which release one ovum (egg) each month. The fallopian tubes, uterus, vagina, and the mammary glands (breasts) make up the female accessory reproductive structures. The anatomy of the female reproductive system is illustrated in Figure 16.1.
Moving across the North Sea
Authors: Van de Noort Robert
Published: November 2020

Movements between different lands around the North Sea have always been taking place. While the North Sea was evolving gradually, over the millennia, following the melting of the Devensian ice sheet, close contacts across what remained of the North Sea Plain never ceased, as evidenced by near-parallel developments of the Maglemosian-type tools in southern Scandinavia and Britain (Clark 1936), and by particular practices such as the deliberate deposition of barbed points (see chapter 3). Connections across the North Sea throughout the Mesolithic and the beginning of the Neolithic would have been made easier because of the number of islands surviving within the rising sea. The polished axes from Dogger Bank and Brown Bank either represent human presence on these islands in the early Neolithic or else indicate that the existence of these islands sometime in the pre-Neolithic past was embedded in the social memory of later periods. Both possibilities emphasize the fact that the North Sea was a knowable and visited place. Movements across the North Sea took various forms: as exchange between elites from different regions of exotic or ‘prestige’ goods, and possibly of marriage partners; as trade in both luxury and bulk commodities; and in the transfer of people, in some cases as individuals such as pilgrims and missionaries, and in other cases as groups of pirates or as part of larger-scale migrations. Over time, connectedness across the North Sea changed both in nature and in intensity; this was due in no small part to changes in the nature of the craft available. An outline of the movement of goods from the Neolithic through to the end of the Middle Ages illustrates this. Contacts across the North Sea for the Neolithic and the Bronze Age are demonstrated in the long-distance exchange of exotic objects and artefacts, including Beaker pottery, jewellery, or other adornments of gold, amber, faience, jet, and tin; also copper and bronze weapons and tools, and flint daggers, arrowheads, and wrist guards (e.g. Butler, 1963; O’Connor, 1980; Bradley 1984; Clarke, Cowie, and Foxon 1985).
The sea
Authors: Zalasiewicz Jan
Published: November 2020

Some things are just infuriatingly difficult to pin down in geology. For instance, just how deep was our pebble sea, the Silurian sea of the Welsh Basin at the spot that became, some 400 million years later, the beach beneath our feet? Well, one can estimate some kind of minimum depth. It was deeper than the depth to which waves and tides can leave a trace on a sea floor, because no traces of these phenomena have been found in the pebble stuff or—rather more convincingly as evidence—in any of the strata of those Welsh cliffs from which the pebble could have been derived. As a rule of thumb, that means that the sea was more than a couple of hundred metres deep, that being the depth to which the very biggest waves of the very biggest storms on a wide open sea can stir the sea floor. Now, if strata have been deposited above that level, then one can make some reasonable estimates of ancient water depth. Thus, if one finds fossilized beach-strata, that is an obvious signal that those rocks were formed virtually at sea level. And below that, we can make a distinction between those shallow sea floors that are stirred pretty well all the time, even by the small waves of a fair-weather day (on this kind of sea floor, mud is winnowed away, and only sand and pebbles can settle); and those deeper sea floors only affected by the biggest storms (where thick muddy layers can settle in between major storms that may have been a decade—or a century—apart). But below even that? It is, in practical terms, hard to tell from the rock strata whether the ancient sea floor on which they were laid down was 300m or 3000m deep, or perhaps even more. So it is with the pebble rock. This Welsh sea floor was deep in general terms, but its precise depth remains a mystery—working out even a reasonably imprecise depth remains as a puzzle for future generations of geologists to solve.
Where on Earth?
Authors: Zalasiewicz Jan
Published: November 2020

In some ways the pebble is like one of the newer computer chips, tightly packed with more information than one could ever surmise from gazing on its smooth surface. That stored information can relate to any episode in the history of the pebble, and could be derived from nearby—a microbial mat growing on the exact spot on the sea floor where the pebble sediment accumulated, perhaps. But it could come from afar, such as a micrometeorite landing in the ocean and drifting slowly down to land on that very same spot (there are likely a few of those in the pebble, too). Some information is as pristine as the day it was written, in its own particular code, into the pebble fabric; some, on the other hand, has been almost completely overwritten, when yet further information was imprinted at some later point in time. We might consider here some information that has most likely been all but erased by the pebble’s tumultuous subsequent history—not that that should stop us trying to recover what we can of it. Nevertheless, when it was written into the fabric of the pebble, it provided a clear signal that travelled easily through some 4000 miles of solid rock, straight from the centre of the Earth. This signal gently nudged and guided certain of the flakes of sediment falling on to that sea floor. It made them line up, with almost military precision, to point polewards. They form a memory of latitude. The Earth’s magnetic field is a mysterious thing. What is magnetism? As a child, I used to push together the north poles of two toy magnets, and remember even now how frustratingly difficult it was to make them touch—or how tricky it was to prevent the north and south poles from locking together when I tried to keep them just a tiny bit apart. A few years later, I looked on, impressed but with incomprehension, as a physics teacher sprinkled iron filings around a magnet, to show how they lined up along the invisible lines of force.
Futures
Authors: Zalasiewicz Jan
Published: November 2020

The pebble is on the beach, once more, unmarked by its brief contact with human sentience. Almost unmarked. The fingerprints that it lightly bears will, however, be washed away by the next tide. It has a long future, still, but probably not as a pebble—though quite how long it remains as a pebble may well depend on human action. Not on immediate, direct human action—whether it is scooped up by a digger and converted into concrete for a sea-front esplanade, for instance, or even collected as a souvenir by some passing tourist. Either of these fates should cause only a brief deflection from its long-term future (the esplanade is, after all, only a cliff to be attacked by the elements, while beach souvenirs are soon discarded). A larger perturbation of its trajectory more probably hinges on wider human effects—but more of that anon. We might assume, first, that nature runs its course. A pebble on a beach, its natural environment, is changing all the time. Not long ago, it was part of a slab of slate in a cliff, then it briefly became an angular chunk of rock, before the waves and water smoothed it down. They are still smoothing it, wearing away at it, making it smaller. Even the contact with human hands probably removed a grain or two. A pebble has the appearance of permanence, but it is not permanent. How long does it take to wear down a pebble? This can happen astonishingly quickly. Even over a single tide, being washed backwards and forwards by every incoming wave, a pebble can become detectably lighter—by less than one tenth of one per cent, admittedly, but that weight difference can easily be measured using modern electronic scales. Over a season, on an exposed part of the coast, a pebble can lose between a third and a half of its mass. The rates will vary—on a stormy day the banging of pebbles against each other can produce distinct percussion marks on their surfaces, while on a calm day the attrition rate will drop markedly. Night and day, though, the pebble is disintegrating.
To begin …
Authors: Prineas Stavros , Smith Andrew F
Published: November 2020

Communication is an innately fascinating and, on occasions, a somewhat mysterious topic. At its heart, it is the means of expressing, both to ourselves and to others, how we perceive the world and how we influence the world around us. It is a tool for exchanging information and meaning, but also a way to connect with others. While obviously a means to an end, it is also an end in itself—without the ability to share with others, life would be greatly impoverished. The many human dimensions of communication— the practical, the social, the linguistic, the lyrical, the subliminal, its ability to soothe and to injure, to inform, to entertain, to terrify—are what make this topic so challenging. Anaesthesia has come a very long way since the 1840s. The advent of safer and more selective drugs, coupled with ever more sophisticated technology, has made the practice of anaesthesia safer, yet also more complicated. The patients that we treat are often older, have multiple co-morbidities, and are undergoing procedures that would have been unthinkable 20 years ago. Yet with the increasingly complex workload have come the additional pressures of time and resource allocation. Patients are admitted on the day of surgery, leaving minimal time for anaesthetic assessment. Anaesthetists are frequently busy, isolated and unavailable when working in theatre, or find themselves working at multiple sites with little opportunity for interaction with colleagues. Similarly, theatre staff rarely work in the same operating room with the same team on a regular basis. The hospital administrators are under constant pressure as they strain to contain costs and reduce length of stay, while wards are increasingly understaffed and overworked. In the midst of all this, patients are left wondering who is actually caring for them, and if anyone is listening to their concerns. Anaesthetists play a crucial role in multi-professional teams in a wide variety of clinical settings of which theatre is only one. There is the high dependency unit (HDU), the labour suite, paediatrics, the chronic pain clinic—to name but a few. In almost every aspect of anaesthetic clinical practice the ability to communicate effectively is a vital component of patient care.
Consent
Authors: Merry Alan F , Merry Sally N
Published: November 2020

The language with which many doctors describe their interactions with patients can be very revealing. A sense of needing to comply with onerous procedural requirements is often more apparent than any enthusiasm over opportunities for positive communication. This was well illustrated by a friend and colleague who picked us up from the airport in a distant city, and said, ‘Do you mind if we drop by the hospital on the way home? The thing is—I have a list tomorrow and I still need to gloom up the patients’. This sort of negativity probably reflects a widespread tendency to place undue emphasis on the legal implications of consent. Lawyers have advocated ticking a checklist to ensure legally robust documentation of the information provided. This idea has merit, especially given recent data showing that documentation of informed consent is often poor. Nevertheless, the fact that such documentation might be seen as the central element of the process says much about how far the concept of informed consent has moved from its proper place. Ideally, informed consent should not be seen in a legal context at all, but rather as an important part of patient–doctor relationships founded on a commitment to patient-centred care. Patients’ contact with anaesthetists is often short term and brief, and they are often anxious and would like to know what to expect. It follows that the provision of information in a way that can be understood and assimilated, and in a setting where questions can be answered, is the central part of gaining consent. This is an important role for anaesthetists. Skilled communication at this stage will also facilitate the subsequent management of all the other aspects of anaesthesia and perioperative care, thereby repaying the required time and effort involved. Outside medical settings, much of what anaesthetists do to patients falls within the law of trespass, which includes battery and assault. In the context of medical and surgical treatment, consent is a defence against actions in trespass. In fact, actions based on failures of informed consent are infrequent, and successful actions are even less common.
Burning the Bush: The Development of Australia’s Southwest Botanical Province
Authors: Kost Fiona
Published: November 2020

Though early historical records frequently mention Aboriginal, or Noongar, firing in south-western Australia, little is known about how the Noongar people managed the vegetation with fire, or the impact this has had on the environment. This study uses interdisciplinary archaeology, with information from ethnographic data, historical records, and pollen records from the last 6,000 years to determine the actions of the Noongar people and demonstrate how the Southwest Botanical Province can be viewed as an artefact of Noongar land management. It is widely accepted that Aboriginal people have had an effect on some of Australia’s vegetation types through fire (Bowman 1998; Hallam 1975; Kershaw et al. 2002) although the extent of the influence of Aboriginal firing is debated (Mooney et al. 2007). However, pollen data and the study of fire indicators in Xanthorrhoea and Eucalyptus trunks have been used to demonstrate that the frequency of fire events in the south-west has decreased since European colonization (Atahan et al. 2004; Ward et al. 2001), resulting in the loss of fire-dependent vegetation species and changes in vegetation distribution patterns. This disruption of the vegetation communities has been compounded by the extensive clearing of land for farming and the displacement of the Noongar people (Dodson 2001). The impact that European colonization had on vegetation becomes more apparent as an understanding of the Noongar fire management practices is gained. There is increasing acknowledgement by researchers of the need to understand the influence of the past fire regime on vegetation patterns and to acknowledge traditional land management practices (Hopper and Gioia 2004), as well as the changes caused by European attempts to create a ‘natural’ regime, so that land management groups can take them into account when determining modern-day prescribed burning timetables. Archaeological studies such as this one can provide a unique insight into the past actions of people such as the Noongar, allowing us to determine how they shaped the landscape prior to European colonization (see Balée, Chapter 3 this volume for a more direct discussion of the ‘indigenous’ nature of pre-colonial landscapes; see Stump, Chapter 10 this volume for similar discussions of colonial and postcolonial environmental narratives).