Friday night, with a wicked hangover, I furiously rode my bike to the Seattle Center after work to witness probably the greatest art installation to ever pass through our fair city.
Under a carnival tent, in the Parking lot, lay a 40 foot long, extremely life-like version of of a human colon. Standing 4 feet tall, you are forced to mimic 'the turd' as you crouch (or crawl in the case of some of the wider visitor/turds) through a tour of intestinal destruction.
Upon entering the tent, I was greeted by a tall, thin, beautiful blonde, who handed me a pair of blue cloth booties to place over my shoes. Several educational kiosks were located on the way to THE ENTRANCE.
I kept my mind on the goal, ignoring the videos of the woman who created the Colossal Colon, talking about her ass and how it used to hurt, pfft.
Before you enter the tube, a large panel dedicates the educational installation to a woman in her 20's who died of colon cancer, and left a family behind. What a fitting way to be remembered: "I have a giant model of my own oozing death dedicated to ME?!"
The colon itself lay sprawled out on the ground like entrails on an operation table, cast aside on cold steel in order to gain access to something deeper. However, in this case the intestines were the goal. The colon snaked a circuitous, U-shape across the ground, and the entrance was merely a cross-sectional incision through the intestinal walls.
I grinned with sick, disturbing anticipation. The base of the colon was lined with a spongy mat-like track, that in the diminished light, resembled a long, moist channel of poo-stained water, like the puddles at the bottom of a sewer. But the real show is on the ridged walls surrounding you, and the wounds of illness increase in severity as you travel deeper into the tunnel.
First, you experience Crohn's Disease, a genetic disorder that affects millions of Americans. The ulcer's of Chrohn's disease resemble flesh seared by battery acid, pitted, and inflamed.
Next you experience what is arguably my personal fave. Divriticulitis, a disorder often stemming from Crohn's Disease where ulcerated pockets in the intestinal walls expand and become clogged with intestinal material and mucous (read: slimey poo). Oh how I wish this exhibit had been scratch and sniff!
Imagining parastalsis as my pilot, I carried on. Pollups emerged from the colon walls, the first indicators of cancer, easily removed in a colonoscopy. As the infection spreads the abundance and density of pollups increase until finally, nearing the anus, full-fledged cancer ensues, a bubbling, bloody, mess of ruined, weak tissue ravaged by bad-burgers and cheddar cheese, destroyed by lactose-laziness, and American-Apathy. Oh the horror, the intense JOY!
Whew, when I snapped out of it, I made a quick exit out the anus, but not before viewing a cluster of hemmorhoids around the rim.
The rest of the exhibit was anticlimactic. A video of an actual colonscopy only recorded the rapid, and unrevealing entrance. I saw more of the patient's face than I did of his cavity, how boring.
In all an educational and enjoyable journey. I thouroughly enjoyed myself, both in the actual exhibit and in the recounting.
*note: The author considers colon cancer and all other intestinal health issues to be serious matters, I am not trying to insult or make light of anyone who may read this. I am merely poking fun at my own obsession with the digestive system, based wholly on my own digestive problems, both past and present. It is only through education (the point of the exhibit), open dialog, healty diets, and regular colonoscopies that we can begin to win the battle against colon cancer.
