As part of the research study that I participated in as a human subject, I received in the mail a questionnaire about my health, my family history, and other personal data. A 76-page questionnaire.
For me, heaven. Blank lines and circles and check boxes, oh my! Then I noticed that there were 2 copies in the envelope. Oh, God. My mother! I had jumped at the chance at being doubly altruistic by offering up my mother as well for the human subject blood-letting, but, in my haste, I had overlooked the questionnaire.
I brought both questionnaires to her house with the intent of filling them out together. My mother’s MS makes writing very difficult for her, my mother’s farsightedness makes reading difficult for her, and my mother’s mouth makes doing anything quickly impossible for her.
Question 1: List the medications you are on.
Me: Tysabri, Paxil, birth control pills.
My mother: “Let’s see. Boniva … I just started that a few months ago, no maybe actually a year now. That is the one with Sally Field on the commercial. You only have to take it once a month, you know. I don’t think those are her real grandchildren on the commercial. I just loved her in that one with that guy. No, I think it was only a few months ago. My doctor originally prescribed me some daily pill, but it gave me constipation, so she switched me to the Boniva…..” Oh, God!
My mother is on 9 different medications. We were still on medication number 1 of the 9, and on question 1 of the 346. I was on 3 additional medications myself by the time we reached question 2.
But the absolute worst were Questions 330-347. Remember, I am reading the questions out loud to my Mom. For example:
Question 330: “Have you ever been diagnosed with any of the following sexually-transmitted diseases: Genital Herpes, Gonorrhea, Human Papilloma Virus, Pelvic Inflammatory Disease, or Syphilis?”
Question 331: “How old were you when you first menstruated?”
Question 332: “Are you still menstruating?”
Question 333: “Is or was your menstruation typically a light, regular, heavy or irregular flow?”
Question 334: “Are your breasts typically tender, lumpy …”
Oh, God. Oh, God! Okay, I don’t care how old I get, or how old she gets, or how “medical” the context is, I do not want to ask my mother these questions. And I far, far, far, far, far less want to hear her answers. Oh, God.
My mother, who, bless her soul, does not share my same sense of personal boundaries, i.e. having some, was not only happy to answer these questions but felt the need to elaborate. By the time our questionnaires were as complete as they were ever going to get, a good 4 hours later, I knew that my mother had had extramarital sex, with whom, and with whom she would have rather had it. And that wasn’t even part of a question!
