Running one patient costs the company about $5,500 annually. Nitrogen, staff, that's most of it. A local guy tops up the tanks every two weeks because the nitrogen slowly evaporates, and if it drops too low, pressure builds up inside and that's a real problem.
Not Exactly a Crowded Field
"Almost nobody's interested in cryonics," Tsolakides admits. The people who do join, he reckons, usually had this quiet fascination for years and just never realised it was an option here.
Global scene's small too, maybe a thousand people frozen worldwide. Tight-knit, he calls it.
Opened in 2023. First patient didn't show up until May 2024, a man in his 80s. Most recent one, a man in his 90s, joined this past June.
Where the Science Actually Sits
Not good, honestly. Biophysicists point to ice crystals forming during freezing, damage to cells that nothing right now can undo.
Brain's the hard part. Even if the physical structure somehow makes it through undamaged, there's zero guarantee memory or personality or whatever consciousness even is comes along for the ride.
Nobody's ever been revived. Not once, anywhere. So for now this sits firmly in speculation, not medicine.
Legally it's a grey area too. Australia treats these places like storage businesses, not clinics, so no health authority is checking whether revival will ever work, just whether the storage part's done safely.
Betting Anyway
Knowing all that, some people still do it. Figure a small, uncertain chance beats a guaranteed nothing.
So the shed keeps running. Quiet, unremarkable, holding onto a strange kind of hope that science, right now, just can't confirm or rule out either way.
This article is based on original reporting by Guardian Australia.