The Third Missing Document
Nurse Brodrick’s entry—written the day before Rico’s birth—reads:
“Concern re. [Lindsey’s] level of viral immunity.”
That phrase wasn’t casual. It was clinical precision. “Level of viral immunity” is not language used in general obstetrics—it signals targeted awareness of HIV status. It points directly to advanced immunological testing: CD4 counts, viral load analysis—procedures that aren’t ordered by accident. They are ordered when someone is known to be HIV-positive.
And here’s the critical piece: for that statement to appear in the record, the bloodwork would have had to be drawn, processed, and analyzed well in advance of delivery.
But Lindsey hadn’t had blood drawn. She hadn’t even been seen at Mayo Clinic in the lead-up to labor. Which means the data Nurse Brodrick referenced—those immune markers—had been in circulation inside the institution long before Rico was born.
This wasn’t a last-minute discovery. It was preexisting knowledge.
Knowledge that Mayo later claimed not to have.
And yet, this document—one of the most damning pieces of evidence confirming prior awareness of Lindsey’s status and the intentional decision not to offer treatment—was not sent to our second set of attorneys.
It wasn’t forgotten.
It was withheld.
Because if our lawyers had seen that one line—“concern re. level of viral immunity”—it would have blown apart the entire defense. It would have proven Mayo knew. That they had time. That they chose silence.
And that silence wasn’t just unethical.
It was strategic.