The Illustrated Cryonicist and His Removable Tattoo
By Jim Yount
"A whale of a tail and it’s all true, I swear by my tattoo."
As these lyrics to "Whale of a Tail" sung by Kurt Douglas in the movie 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea suggest, sailors (and we will add carnival people as well) are the folks who sport tattoos, right? Not anymore. If you don’t have at least one tattoo you are just not a "Happenin’ Dude". According to Fortune Small Business magazine, at least 25% of Americans now have at least one tattoo, and in any one year 17% of those with tattoos go through the painful and expensive process of tattoo removal.
The title to this piece suggests that cryonicists might want such highly personal decorations; but why should we? Those things are so damned permanent! We who plan on living a long-long time are apt to get very tired of seeing the same dragon or American eagle illustrating our skin year after year, century after century. Yet there are some very good reasons to become an Illustrated Cryonicist. To illustrate the need for illustrations, consider the following true account:
"Why not inject the heparin directly into the heart?" the doctor asked. "That sounds like a good idea," I replied, "I didn’t know it could be done."
This conversation took place at a suspension of an ACS member a few years ago. We had fretted over the prospect of inserting a cannula for delivering heparin and other pharmacological agents in a post-mortem patient. It can be a bit tricky since without blood pressure from a beating heart, the arteries and veins are in a state of collapse and often can’t be easily located for penetration. The doctor, the sister of one of our members, explained that the heart makes a nice big target and all we have to do is go in with a long needle between the ribs. She showed the members of the emergency response team how to find the "sweet spot," on the patient who was then alive but critically ill. She suggested making a small ink marking on the patient’s chest to make it easy for us to make the injection when the patient deanimated.
I haven’t noticed many of my wanna-be-frozen friends sporting the colorful illustrations, but then again I rarely see them at the beach. That sexy Phoenix bird rising from the fiery ash tray should look just great on a fellow’s back side. Or maybe the caterpillar-cocoon- butterfly sequence that once graced the cover of The Immortalist magazine?
During a recent conversation with York Porter, we both felt a bit stymied by not having a good solution to notifying medical personnel that their patient (perhaps unconscious patient) wants to be frozen promptly upon death. The Medic Alert bracelets worn by ACS members are pretty good, but York pointed out that in the confusion of an emergency room such an emblem could be overlooked or misplaced. He suggested the Medic Alert necklace might be a better choice, since medical people were likely to examine the patient’s chest for placements of monitor probes and for other diagnostics.
But what if the emblem was misplaced or the patient forgot to put it on after taking a shower? This brings us back to the tattoo. The CI or ACS emergency number could be tattooed on the patient’s chest, or anyplace else that tickles his fantasy. In fact, a skilled tattoo artist could embroider detailed Technicolor instructions, along with the Medic Alert symbol, and still have plenty of skin left over for that attractive butterfly! "Wow," you say, "Now I can be a cryonicist who comes with instructions."
"But tattoos are so permanent," you complain. "What if the phone number changes?" Being an illustrated cryonicist is not a day at the beach. Besides-which, such nifty tattoos, no matter how cute they look after getting out of the bath at home, may embarrass you when you spend a day at the beach. Have I got good news for you! Now, thanks to the miracle of science, the removable tattoo has arrived. Yes friends, an on today, off tomorrow, tattoo will soon be available at a tattoo parlor near you. We are not talking about one of those wet-‘em and paste-‘em jobs that you used to get as a prize in a box of Cracker Jack. These are real, permanent, tattoos that require a lazar to remove, but come off faster, easier, and cheaper than the old style permanent pictures. A Manhattan based start-up company called Freedom2 (www.freedom2ink.com) is the inventor of the "now you have ink, now you don’t" technology. Its process makes use of regular tattoo equipment and artists. Only the ink is different. The durable but removable pigment is approved by the FDA for tattooing, and (Freedom2ink claims) is less likely to cause an allergic reaction or result in a skin infection than the old ink.
Here is how the tattoo fashioned from this special ink is removed: as the laser heats the tattoo, the ink dissolves and is absorbed through the capillaries of the skin. No muss, no fuss, no more tattoo. The removal costs about $1,000, claims Freedom-2, a bargain compared to the $5,000 price tag to erase conventional tattoos. Plus, it’s a good bet the Freedom-2 tattoo removal is less painful.
The special ink is supposed to be available through tattoo salons starting sometime in 2007. Those interested may want to check the Freedom-2 website periodically. Then check with your friendly neighborhood cryonics society as to just what message is best to be inked on your to-be anatomical donation.
One final benefit from tattoos (other than being a neat conversation piece at late-night parties) is identification. Keeping track of which patient is where is something CI has down solid, but it may be a couple hundred years before we can thaw out the dudes and ask them who they are.
During that time, a lot of confusion can happen. Identifying tattoos placed on say the soles of the feet could be yet another way to keep track of who is who, and who is where.