No one thought she could have HIV. She was a middle class mayoral aide, a heterosexual woman, and she had me, a perfectly healthy toddler. She was not an injection drug user. That wasn’t the kind of person who got HIV—the gay man’s disease.
These stereotypes kept my mom from being correctly diagnosed with the virus in the early 1990s. The thought that it might be cancer, the copious amounts of medication, the endless questions and confusion—it all amounted to wasted time that ultimately cost my mom her life. All because no one thought to test her for HIV, because she did not fit the stereotype.
More than 30 years since the first case of HIV was reported in the United States, the same misinformation that prevented my mom from receiving an accurate diagnosis still runs rampant throughout the world.