The Trash Compactor Scene in Star Wars

Princess Leia and Han Solo preparing to give Luke
Skywalker a mammogram.

So, I went ahead and did it. I got the mammogram I wrote about last week. I was expecting it to be awful, because I have heard horror stories about women going in for mammograms and emerging battered and traumatized. I got my mom to go to the clinic with me for moral support, because who but your mom would you take with you to get a mammogram? Actually, this gives me an idea. If any of my family or friends ever sets me up on a date, and he doesn’t meet my perfect man requirements, I will take him with me to get a mammogram. Of course, I won’t invite him back to observe the procedure or anything, but just being invited on such an outing should ensure there is no second date.

Anyway, my mom and I arrived at the office around 7:45 AM last Friday, and the location was conveniently close to my house, which was a plus. I was dead tired, as I had stayed up late the night before having a marathon viewing session of episodes of Fringe on Netflix. I am on the fourth season now, and not only do I want to finish the episodes so I can see what happens, but after getting involved in a new series on Netflix, I see it as a personal challenge to get through the episodes as quickly as possible. So, when I got up that morning, I dragged myself out of bed, performed pet care duties, and then pulled my hair back and put on a hat. Oh yeah, and I got dressed. Although I am sure that not getting dressed would have added some excitement to the whole experience, I decided that opting for old jeans and a giant t-shirt would do for the occasion.

Once inside the waiting room, a very nice woman checked me in, and I was not required to give all kinds of personal information about myself, which was nice. I just signed in and gave the lady the piece of paper my doctor had given me. There were two signs in the waiting room that caught my attention. The first stated that the office staff could not look after your children while you got your mammogram, and that if you had brought small children with you, you would need to reschedule. The second said that you should cover your mouth when you cough.

A prophecy of the upcoming fall
of civilization

Signs like these always amuse me, because the very fact that the office had to hang them up shows that they were having a problem with these issues to begin with. I am assuming that only people 35 and over come in for mammograms, and they are old enough to know that the office staff should not be expected to babysit their children. I would also really hope that the other women in the clinic are not walking up to the unsupervised children and coughing in their faces. These signs make me think of product warnings that always seem ridiculous to me, such as the “Do Not Eat” warning on Preparation H, or the warning label included on all chainsaws telling you not to hold the wrong end. If we have to have signs and warnings like these, then our species is probably destined to become extinct within the next 100 years, and then we won’t have to worry about the problem of overpopulation. Maybe everyone on earth will die off, except for me, George Clooney, and Bradley Cooper, and we will be forced to repopulate the planet. It would be a burden, but I would take it on for the benefit of future generations.

Okay, back to the mammogram. After waiting only about five minutes, a kindly woman with short white hair came to get me, acknowledged that my mom was there to provide moral support, and took me back to a changing area. Upon hearing that I only had to get undressed from the waist up, I experienced the type of euphoria usually only attained with the use of psychoactive drugs. After having been to the lady doctor recently, taking off only the top half of my clothes sounded fantastic. I did what the nice lady said, and then met her in the mammogram room.

There was some equipment in the room that looked a little like it belonged on the USS Enterprise, and I assumed that was the mammogrammer, or the mammogramatic, or whatever a mammogram machine is called. The kindly lady commented that I was very calm, and that she doesn’t always see calm mammogram patients. Some women come in very anxious, she said, and some even cry. Now, if I were to cry at my mammogram, it would be in mourning of the fact that I am now old enough to need a mammogram, but apparently these women were crying because they were scared. She even told me a story about one woman, who was crying and scared, who actually slipped, fell, and hit her head on the machine, sustaining a concussion and having to be transported across the street to the hospital emergency room. No way did I want my mammogram to be quite that exciting! The excitement of not having to get completely undressed was enough for me.

Then the kind lady started the mammogram. Now, to make the description quite simple, I will use an analogy that many people are sure to understand. Think of the first Star Wars movie. Now, remember that scene where Princess Leia, Luke, Han Solo, and Chewbacca get caught in the trash compactor. Really harrowing scene, right? Well, getting a mammogram is a lot like that scene, except imagine that you were a giant, and big enough that only one side of your chest would fit into the trash compactor at a time, only without Mark Hamill and Carrie Fisher watching. And without that gross octopus-like creature that attacked Luke. (For those of you who are real Star Wars fanatics, that creature was called a dianoga, and you can read about it here.)

Now, if all mammograms were witnessed by Mark Hamill and Carrie Fisher, then at least I would have had an opportunity to get autographs on some of my older brother’s old Star Wars action figures, and perhaps I could have turned my mammogram into a moneymaking opportunity. But, if there were a chance of having a scary octopus-like creature attack you during a mammogram, then I would probably be one of the women who hit her head and had to be taken to the emergency room. So, in summary, a mammogram is not that bad. If you have to get one, remember that you will probably not sustain any bruises, but you will probably not meet any late seventies/early eighties movie stars either. Unless, you get your mammogram in Los Angeles, in which case one of them might be your mammogram technician.
Star Wars image courtesy of http://www.businessinsider.com/states-us-china-exports-2010-9?op=1
Chainsaw label image courtesy of http://grahamten.wordpress.com/2009/07/23/insane-product-warning-labels/