Filed under: Book Conservation, General Musings, Health, Predictions, Science, Science Fiction, Society, Survival, tech
As a book conservator, one of the things I deal with most frequently is problems caused by the embrittlement of paper and other cellulose materials. This embrittlement is, generally, caused by residual acid content from the manufacturing of those materials. For a period of about 130 – 140 years (basically from the start of the American Civil War until just before the turn of the 21st century), paper was most widely manufactured using an acid bath to wash away non-cellulose fibers, which left that residual acid content slowly weakening the paper. This is a process known among conservators and librarians as “slow fire“, since it is essentially an oxidation process akin to the combustion of fire, but on a longer time scale. Perhaps surprisingly, this mechanism wasn’t understood at all until about the time of my birth some fifty years ago, when research started to show what was actually happening to paper at this very basic level.
Now the majority of paper is made using an alternative process, primarily due to environmental needs (less pollution). It is a side benefit, but an important one, that this usually results in a much more stable and longer-lasting paper, one which doesn’t have that residual acid content causing problems. Because paper doesn’t have to become embrittled with age – I have lots of examples of paper made 500 years ago that looks as fresh and supple as paper made last week. The paper we’re most widely using now has a similar stability.
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Now, it seems, scientists studying evolution and extinction may have stumbled upon a similar stability issue with regards to humans, and it could portend a medical breakthrough which would save countless lives and extend others.
Writing for Seed Magazine this week, Peter Ward notes that of the five major mass extinction events in Earth’s history, one of them was undoubtedly due to a single chemical:
But now, together with Mark Roth of the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center in Seattle, I believe we have found a possible biochemical scar, present within living animals, that links Earth’s greatest mass extinction to a single substance: hydrogen sulfide (H2S). Hydrogen sulfide is a relatively simple molecule that gives rotten eggs their distinctive foul odor and is quite toxic–in high concentrations a single breath can kill. And it looks like that is what happened: Hundreds of millions of years ago, hydrogen sulfide probably saturated our oceans and atmosphere, poisoning nearly every creature on Earth.
Yet some creatures, like our very distant ancestors, must have somehow survived this toxic environment. What Roth has discovered is that H2S, incredibly, also has the ability to preserve and save lives. In small doses the chemical puts many animals into a state of “suspended animation,” a useful adaptation that would have allowed creatures to, in essence, hibernate through the catastrophe of mass extinction. If this idea is correct, our understanding of the deep past could lead to a dramatic medical revolution very soon.
What kind of dramatic medical revolution? The Science Fiction dream of suspended animation, allowing people with an illness or injury to be “set aside” for decades until medical science comes up with a cure, or a way of putting their brain in a newly cloned body?
Nope. Something a lot simpler, and probably a lot more useful. This:
When we humans are cut or injured, our bodies naturally produce small quantities of hydrogen sulfide. In essence, the body may be trying to put itself into suspended animation to survive the injury, an instinct held over millions of years in our genes. Yet whenever one of us is dying, say from a heart attack, our first instinct is to give that person oxygen. The problem with this “life-saving” first response may be that the oxygenated red blood cells rush to the damaged cells and act like gasoline on a fire. Oxygen is one of the most chemically active substances on Earth, and though we need it to survive, it can ravage our bodies. The oxygen increases the reactions causing the heart attack in the first place; it tears up more cells and overwhelms the virtual suspended animation that the body-produced hydrogen sulfide created. Then it kills you.
Oxygen. From whence we get the term Oxidation. As in “burning” or “fire”. So, what to do? Here’s the concluding bit from the article:
Perhaps our first instinct in instances of a heart attack should be to cool the body and let hydrogen sulfide do its natural work. To save life, in other words, you may first have to effectively suspend it with hydrogen sulfide. This tactic may just be what got us so far in the first place.
There is no clear understanding yet of why our injured bodies are able to produce hydrogen sulfide or why H2S puts some mammals into suspended animation. But I believe that Roth has found our body’s own memory of the ancient events that nearly killed our distant ancestors. Some proto-mammals may have been exposed to H2S, and instead of dying, they were placed into a state of suspended animation that allowed them to survive until the initial hydrogen sulfide levels subsided and they were reanimated. Some lucky evolutionary accident ensured the mammals’ safety through a deep sleep, and that accident may still be dormant within us. That which allowed our ancestors to survive millions of years ago might also be a means of our survival now.
* * * * * * *
Like paper made 50 years ago, I am not as supple or fresh as when I was born. I too have experienced my own version of embrittlement. There is only so much my body can do to keep up with the effects of oxidation. There are plenty of commercial products out there touting their antioxidant effect, just as there are products I use to neutralize acid in paper, but none of these will return me to my youth, just as I cannot reverse the effects of embrittlement in paper.
But it seems that perhaps we have a new insight into some of the mechanisms at work. I don’t expect to live forever, but I certainly wouldn’t mind having better and more effective medical treatment for what time I have. As a conservator, my best hope is to preserve what suppleness there is still left in paper. I’d be willing to settle for the same thing, myself.
Jim Downey
Filed under: 2nd Amendment, Alzheimer's, Ballistics, Guns, Health, Hospice, Sleep
Sorry I haven’t posted much the last couple of days. Honestly, I am in a funk – the sort of deep-seated inertia which comes after completing a protracted project. On one level, it is just the downturn from the ballistics testing. But more, it is the still lingering exhaustion from care-giving.
Which is not surprising. You can’t expect to recover from years of poor sleep and intensely caring for someone else 24 hours a day in just a few weeks. Particularly not when we’re still very much dealing with resolution of the estate (strangers are here right now going through things, giving us estimates on the value of some items) and trying to play catch up on professional and personal obligations. We collapsed immediately following the memorial service for Martha Sr, but then tried to pretend that we were recovered, to get on with the life which had been put on hold for so long.
But now it feels like it is catching up with me again. Like how a battery can get a ‘surface charge’ quickly, but also wears out again quickly. I need a prolonged period of recovery and recuperation. That, however, is not likely to happen. There are books to repair, bills to pay, years worth of things to catch up on.
So, forgive the slight break. I’m not burned out – I still have a lot to say, to do, to write about here. I’m just tired.
Jim Downey
Filed under: BoingBoing, Civil Rights, Emergency, Failure, General Musings, Government, Guns, Health, Politics, Predictions, Preparedness, Press, Privacy, RKBA, Society, Survival, Terrorism, Violence
If you know me at all, from personal experience or just from my writings, you might be a bit surprised to know that when I was a kid I was considered bookish, uninterested in athletics, a bit nerdy. I distinctly remember being pushed to close whatever book I was quietly reading, and to go outside and play ‘like a real boy’.
Why do I mention this? Well, because I have been following with some interest the whole ‘controversy’ around Lenore Skenazy‘s recent column and subsequent news coverage/website devoted to the concept of “Free Range Kids“. In itself, it is fascinating that Skenazy’s ideas have generated this kind of reaction – challenging the prevailing cultural norms about child-rearing and parental control (under the guise of keeping kids safe). Lots of people are saying that it is about time for us to get away from “helicopter parents” who so over-protect their kids that the kids never get any real life experience. Just look at the comments at BoingBoing, on her website, or just about anywhere else – she gets some criticism, but for the most part people are saying either that “it’s about time” or “what’s the big deal – this is how most of the working class folks get along”.
But beyond that, there is something else that comes through: a basic desire for people to have some freedom back, that the whole “security” mindset may have gone too far, that we have gotten well away from our self-professed ideal of being the “Home of the Brave”. I don’t think that this is the least bit surprising, nor that it would show up in these kinds of discussions, because I think that the issues are very closely interrelated.
Let’s talk about Skenazy’s notions again for a moment. Her basic premise is that while we need as parents (and as a society) to take some reasonable precautions, it is also extremely important that kids be allowed to actually experience life outside the purview of parents and other authorities – to have a little room to learn about things like self reliance, independence, and problem solving. Her example is letting her 9 year old son ride the subway in NYC on his own. What happened? I’ll quote from her site:
When I wrote a column for The New York Sun on “Why I Let My 9-Year-Old Take The Subway Alone,” I figured I’d get a few e-mails pro and con.
Two days later I was on the Today Show, MSNBC, FoxNews and all manner of talk radio with a new title under my smiling face: “America’s Worst Mom?”
Yes, that’s what it took for me to learn just what a hot-button this is — this issue of whether good parents ever let their kids out of their sight. But even as the anchors were having a field day with the story, many of the cameramen and make up people were pulling me aside to say that THEY had been allowed to get around by themselves as kids– and boy were they glad. They relished the memories!
And the next paragraph nicely summarizes what the real problem is, as I see it:
Had the world really become so much more dangerous in just one generation?Yes — in most people’s estimation. But no — not according to the evidence. Over at the think tank STATS.org, where they examine the way the media use statistics, researchers have found that the number of kids getting abducted by strangers actually holds very steady over the years. In 2006, that number was 115, and 40% of them were killed.
Now, why do people have the perception that the world is much more dangerous now, when the statistics don’t support that? Hmm. Think about it for half a moment and the answer is obvious: because that is what we are constantly told by the mainstream media, both in news and in fiction. And I’m not just talking about kids being kidnapped, assaulted, or murdered. If it isn’t the government trying to scare us senseless about some new terrorist threat, it is some TV show preying on your fears with murder or deadly ingredients in your food/water. Think of what sells papers and ad-time, and you’ll understand the motivation. It has always been so. But what has changed in the last generation is the absolute saturation that we get from these sources.
I am the first to acknowledge that the world is, indeed, a dangerous place. When I was barely starting adolescence my dad was murdered, and my mom was killed in a car accident, for crying out loud. Sure, neither of those is as bad as the loss of a child, but still. I do take reasonable precautions in going about my life, from trying to watch my diet to getting exercise to carrying a gun (and other safety tools). I use my seat belt and pay attention while driving. But I also live my life – because I know that no matter what, I’m going to die of something someday, and I would much rather enjoy the life I have than live in fear of losing it.
It is simply impossible to live a fully protected life. Just as it is simply impossible to fully protect kids from harm. Furthermore, it is completely counter-productive. In the case of kids, all you are doing is denying them the opportunity to really learn about themselves – the one and only person that they will have to rely on in the future. Kids have to learn to walk on their own. And they have to learn to get up when they fall. Sure, they’ll get hurt. They’ll scrape a knee, maybe get cut, maybe even break a bone. Know what? That’s life. They’ll heal, or learn to deal with it.
That’s harsh, but I am not advocating harshness. I am advocating bravery. Because that is what will come from learning that yes, you will get hurt – but you will recover from it. Yes, life will present problems, but you can learn to overcome them or cope with it. Learning that is liberating, and the sooner someone learns it, the more fully they will enjoy what life they have.
Likewise, in seeking to protect ourselves from threats, we have done nothing but lose our bravery as a nation. And lose our freedoms.
Let the kids range free. And let your own faith in yourself range a little freer, as well.
Jim Downey
(Cross posted to UTI.)
Filed under: Astronomy, Bad Astronomy, Cassini, Enceladus, Health, NASA, Phil Plait, Predictions, Promotion, Publishing, Saturn, Science, Science Fiction, Space, Titan
Gah. I am either having a relapse of the very stubborn flu that had me laid low last month, or am fighting some new bug with similar (yet still considerably less severe) symptoms. This is highly annoying.
So, I’m about to go take a nap. But first a couple of quick notes, and then a bit from Phil Plait’s blog about a recent discovery that is very exciting.
Note one: downloads of the .pdf of Communion of Dreams have crossed 8,200 and downloads of the audio version continue to climb as well. That’s exciting.
Note two: heard nothing yet from the agent I mentioned contacting the other day. No surprise – I expect that it will take a month or so to hear from them. But I needed something else to note.
Now, about the news from space . . .
I have written previously about the Cassini probe’s 10 year mission to Saturn, and how there have been a lot of great images and information coming back to scientists about that planet and its moons. Information that helps to confirm what we knew when I was first writing Communion (since most of the action of the book takes place on and around Titan.) But there is news which would potentially require me to revise the novel slightly – not about Titan, but about its sibling Enceladus. You may have heard something about this, but I’ll go to the Bad Astro Boy himself for the news:
Life’s cauldron may be bubbling underneath Enceladus
A few days ago I wrote about how the Cassini Saturn probe dove through water ice plumes erupting from the surface of the icy moon Enceladus. The pictures were incredible, but it may very well be that the other detectors got the big payoff.
They detected organic compounds in the plumes.
Now remember, organic molecules don’t necessarily mean life. What Cassini detected were heavy carbon-based molecules, including many that are the building blocks for making things like amino acids and other compounds necessary for life as we know it.
Edited to add: Carolyn Porco, imaging team leader for Cassini, says:
[…] it is now unambiguous that the jets emerging from the south polar fractures contain organic materials heavier than simple methane — acetylene, hydrogen cyanide, formaldehyde, propane, etc. — making the sub-surface sources of Enceladus’ dramatic geological activity beyond doubt rich in astrobiologically interesting materials.
Whoa. I mean, *whoa* . Seriously. It ain’t life, nor even proof of life – but it is *damned exciting*.
Now, a nap. All this excitement makes me tired.
Jim Downey
Filed under: BoingBoing, Civil Rights, Government, Health, Society, Terrorism
Teen Says TSA Screener Opened Sterile Equipment, Put Life In Danger
James Hoyne, 14, has a feeding tube in his stomach and carries a back-up in a sealed clear plastic bag. Hoyne said two weeks ago a TSA officer insisted on opening the sterile equipment, contaminating his back-up feeding up tube which he later needed.
“I said ‘Please don’t open it’ and she said ‘I have to open it whether you like it or not. If I can’t open it, I can’t let you on the plane,'” Hoyne said of his conversation with the TSA screener.
TSA officials apologized to James and said they’re looking into the incident to see what corrective steps need to be taken.
A gastric feeding tube is no big deal, and not some strange and bizarre technology that should be a mystery to the fine people at the TSA. But it is a danger to compromise the sterility of such equipment, which usually comes pre-packaged and ready for use (such a tube needs to be replaced every few months, more often under some circumstances – and anyone who has such is smart to have a back-up available).
So here you have a sick kid (check out the video on the WFTV site) being bullied by yet another clueless drone with authority issues. What’s next, requiring all medical equipment used by travelers to be pre-approved by the TSA, so someone doesn’t bring on board an exploding colostomy bag or something?
Sheesh. As someone at BoingBoing (my source for this) put it:
Oh give the TSA a break. Who among us has NOT seen a child with chronic health problems and feared that they might slaughter us all with their sterilized plastic tubes?
Jim Downey
(Cross posted to UTI.)
Last night, my wife washed off the blackboard which hangs in the kitchen.
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I just got back from a quick trip to KC to pick up the first large load of books from the seminary. Simple. Got up this morning, usual routine, jumped in the car and drove to KC. Met with the client. Selected about 60 volumes to start with, wrapped them in cling film, boxed ’em up. Put the boxes in the car, drove home, pausing to check out a new store just off the highway – and amazing myself that I didn’t have to call home to coordinate the slight delay.
* * * * * * *
I sent this note to a friend:
Mostly I’ve been getting work done, at least in the afternoons. Feels good to be able to focus in and do it – a nice affirmation, and there is that joy that comes with doing something well which most people can’t do. Still struggling to shake off the last effects of the flu, which is annoying, but there is clear progress.
And that has been the real change this week. Each afternoon I’ve been able to just dive in and work. For hours. Very productively. Such a change.
* * * * * * *
It’s the little things. Yes, there are the larger changes: more sleep, no need to go around always listening to a monitor, being able to come and go as I please. Those I expected, even if they have taken some adjustment. But it’s the little things that catch you unprepared.
Last night, my wife washed off the blackboard which hangs in the kitchen.
The blackboard which for years had our contact phone numbers on it. Those were first put there by Martha Sr. years ago, when her memory was becoming undependable and she might need to call someone for help. Then they remained even once we moved in here, since both my wife and I still had our jobs elsewhere during the day. After I closed my gallery and moved home that was no longer the need, but by then they were an institution. More recently, long after Martha Sr had stopped using the phone, the numbers were there as a quick resource for the various respite care workers and whatnot, in the event of an emergency.
Last night, my wife washed it clean. It was time to move on.
* * * * * * *
Jim Downey
Filed under: Alzheimer's, Book Conservation, Firefly, Flu, Health, Hospice, Joss Whedon, movies, Predictions, Science Fiction, Serenity, Sleep, Society, Writing stuff
Last night we settled down with some dinner to watch a bit of Firefly, settling on Serenity (the episode, not the movie). At one point fairly early on, when plans have gone south at several junctures, the captain of the ship (Mal) is considering options, trying to make the best of a not-great situation. There’s this little bit of dialog:
MAL: We don’t get paid for this, we won’t have enough money to fuel the ship,
let alone keep her in repair. She’ll be dead in the water anyhow.
(Mal turns to the others)
We just gotta keep our heads down and do the job. Pray there ain’t no more surprises.
I looked at my wife, and we just nodded to one another.
* * * * * * *
We did a hard thing. And we did it well.
Caring for my MIL for years somewhat warped my perspective. First and foremost in our consideration was always what her needs were and how best to meet them. I’ve often talked about what that meant in terms of rewards and sacrifices, and I don’t intend to rehash that now.
But a couple of things have changed with her passing. First off, is the odd sense of disorientation. I’ve compared it in discussion with friends with almost having a sense of agoraphobia – a nervousness when out in the world I’ve never felt before. It’s really just a conditioned reflex, and will fade as I adjust to the lack of need to always being worried about Martha Sr.
Another thing which has changed is the need to return to something resembling a ‘normal’ life, with the usual requirements of work. I don’t mind work, never have. My life has never been easy (though it certainly could have been harder), and I’ve never expected it to be otherwise.
But sometimes you wonder if maybe it couldn’t be just a little bit easier.
Caring for Martha Sr those last weeks was more demanding, and lasted longer than anyone expected. Getting hit with the flu so hard following seemed a bit gratuitous, in the sense of the universe having fun at our expense. Both my wife and I are behind on our work, and while our clients understand, that doesn’t help the cash flow situation. I knew these days would come, and things would be a little rough for a while until we got settled again. But we’ll manage.
* * * * * * *
We did a hard thing, and we did it well.
What has come of a bit of surprise has been how some people have responded to that. There’s been some discord in the family about the disposition of Martha Sr’s possessions, borne mostly out of a misguided sense of guilt, from what I can tell. It’s really unfortunate, but everyone has their own way of reacting to death. If we’re lucky, with time the matter will sort itself out with a minimal amount of damage.
I’ve also seen others in different forums who have almost felt like they had to defend their own decisions regarding a loved one who has Alzheimer’s or some other debilitating illness leading to hospice care. I’ve witnessed those who almost seem resentful that we did what we did, because it somehow implies that they did less – that they cared less.
No. We were able to make this work out. Barely. Everyone has a different situation, and each family, each person, must come to their own conclusions, their own solutions. None is better or worse than another. Because my wife and I don’t have kids, we didn’t have to juggle that aspect of life at the same time. Because we live here in the same town as Martha Sr, and have professions which allow a considerable flexibility in terms of work hours, we were better able to adapt to providing care at home than most. Our solution worked for our situation – barely. Those final months were very demanding, and I will admit that I was pushed further than I would have thought was possible, and failed and succeeded in ways I never expected.
I will not judge another – this experience has taught me humility.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Bipolar, Civil Rights, Depression, Flu, Google, Health, Society
I was going to title this “I’m sick and tired . . . of being sick and tired.” After yet another night of coughing jags, tossing and turning, getting up to take OTC meds every couple of hours, and generally being miserable in this tenth day of this flu.
But then I popped that phrase into Google, to see why it echoed so from my childhood. And a couple of clicks later I found this, and was humbled.
My tendency to feel sorry for myself is not one of my most attractive traits. I can only say that it usually is a sign that I am bottoming out, and before long I will be climbing back out of my own personal pit of despair (whether it is caused by health problems, my mild bi-polar condition, or some other source). It’s that Emerson quote, again.
So, sorry about that, Fanny Lou. Didn’t mean no offense.
Jim Downey
Filed under: 2nd Amendment, Flu, General Musings, Guns, H. G. Wells, Health, Pandemic, Predictions, Preparedness, Science Fiction, Sleep, Society
Wow. It’s been a while since I was this sick, this long. Nothing life-threatening, just the flu that’s going around. Of course, I was completely worn out by the last few weeks of caring for Martha Sr, with no reserves to draw upon to fight this virus, so it comes as very little surprise that I haven’t been able to just shrug off the bug and get better.
It is this sort of experience that drives home the statistics pertaining to how many soldiers over the ages died due to disease rather than battle – I don’t have the numbers right at hand, but generally it has been concluded that at least as many soldiers have died due to illness than from battle related injuries, at least up until the last century. Why? Because soldiers are frequently pushed past the point of physical exhaustion, denied adequate sleep, with poor quality or inadequate food, and under conditions which foster rapid transmission of disease from soldier to soldier.
And that’s one of the things that I always chuckle about when I read about TEOTWAWKI scenarios on this or that forum. Often, particularly when such threads come up on a firearms-related forum, people will get way too preoccupied with guns and ammo, and lose track of the fact that those tools are completely useless if you are too sick or too tired or too hungry to employ them. Get sick, and your superior collection of guns or other tech mean nothing. H.G. Wells knew this, while most of us have forgotten it.
I’ll write more when I am up to it.
Jim Downey
My aches and pains from this cold/flu have reached the point where it is tempting to go sit in a doctor’s office just in order to get some antibiotics. Not that they would do any good, mind, as it is almost certain that what I have is a viral bug rather than a bacterial infection. All the symptoms are in place: cough, watery eyes, runny nose, lack of any real fever. Yet when you are miserable enough, long enough, you get a little desperate. You want antibiotics, just so you feel like you’re “doing something” to beat the disease.
And that, actually, was where Communion of Dreams had its origin: in the over-prescribing of antibiotics and the routine use of same in factory farming of livestock. I started playing around with what would happen if misuse of antibiotics lead to a bacterial ‘superbug’ which we couldn’t treat. Eventually, I went a different direction with the idea, and decided that a viral agent was more appropriate, and for different reasons (which I won’t go into here.)
But at times like this I sure do identify with all those who want antibiotics for every viral beastie to come down the pike. Even if they don’t really do anything.
Jim Downey
Communion Of Dreams 