 In April 1970, the world stood still and held its breath as an explosion on the Apollo 13 spacecraft left the three astronauts on board in danger of exposure to excess carbon dioxide. If you've seen the movie, then you might remember this scene where the engineers back on Earth grabbed all of the equipment that the astronauts would have at their disposal, dumped it on a table and set out to making the carbon dioxide filter that they needed. The astronauts in space relied on these distant experts to save their lives, to find a solution to their problem, taking into account their limited resources and training. 40 years later, back here on Earth, a woman takes her small son to a local community health care centre in Mozambique because he has a cough. It just so happens that this child has a mild case of pneumonia, one of 150 million cases worldwide for the year. If he's diagnosed, he's treatable with a 30 cent course of antibiotics at home, but left to face the illness unassisted, his chances of survival are drastically reduced. In fact, a child under five dies from pneumonia every 20 seconds, two million each year. More than AIDS, malaria and measles combined. To treat, to diagnose pneumonia in these countries, you don't have access to x-rays and lab tests like we do here. So the diagnosis of pneumonia instead of a cold for this child relies on his respiratory rate, which manually is calculated by counting the number of breaths in one minute. But in fact, even in industrialised settings, this is difficult and so inaccurate. But in developing countries, it's often skipped completely because a health care worker will only have two and a half to three minutes with a child because of how out of balance their patient to doctor ratio is. We can be the distant experts that the health care worker, mother and child are counting on. We're back at NASA, Mission Control Room, with the opportunity to make innovations here that will change lives there. But just like the engineers putting their cells in the astronauts situation, we have to imagine that we're in the health clinic in Mozambique. If we look around, what do we see that should be taken into account? We see a health care worker who's been trained in the well-health organisations process for diagnosing and treating children. If we make a device that can complement this process, then we're going to reduce the training associated with it. We also see that they're using natural lighting so that they can afford more medicine. So obviously, cost-effectiveness is going to be a major factor. Any reliance on expensive equipment or an internet connection is going to seriously limit us. But we're still likely to need some way to collect and analyse data. But then we see it. There in the room is this. You might think of it as an outdated mobile phone, but in fact, this device is computationally more powerful than the Apollo 13 onboard computer, which is destined for the moon in every health care worker's pocket. Once everything's laid out on the table like this, it becomes pretty clear what the next step is. We need a low-cost, low-tech respiratory rate sensor which can take advantage of a health care worker's existing training and work to utilise the computing power and now have access to. If we can make the three minutes in consultation truly count and provide the health care workers with the tools that they need to make the life-saving diagnosis, then children's lives can be saved. An application of electrical engineering which is so easy for me to overlook when I've been conditioned to focus on creating bigger and better technology when a mother in Mozambique her needs are on the completely other end of the spectrum. This device, outdated technology, will save her life. Thank you.