Sherrie’s Story

Sherri Tells Us About Her Experiences of Living with HIV

When Sherri tested positive for HIV in February 2016, she wasn’t worried about herself. She was worried that she might have put her family and friends at risk. She knows now that HIV can’t be casually transmitted, but when she received that positive test result, all she could think about was whether she had put others at risk.

She had gone in for an HIV test, then went to Texas to visit her ailing mother when she got a phone call telling her that she tested positive for HIV. “I was devastated,” she says. “It was not a shock, but it was a shock. One of the hardest things in the world to hear, that you put yourself and so many other people at risk for what in my mind was a killer.”

Sherri shares that it took her some time to come to terms with HIV. “I didn’t care about me, but I was concerned about others I put at risk,” she recalls. “Have I put my daughter at risk? My mother? My partner?” She immediately called people and told them about her test results.

“Even after learning more about HIV and how it is and is not transmitted, even after being on antiviral medication and getting to the undetectable level and finding out that it’s almost impossible for me to transmit HIV to anyone, it’s still hard to believe sometimes,” she says. “I just worry about it. I would be devastated if I hurt anyone.”

Sherri went to the Petersen HIV clinic at Banner/UMC, and was told about SAAF, she says, and then after about six months, SAAF told her about TIHAN.  “Before I found out about TIHAN, I didn’t realize that so much help and kindness and generosity existed in this town. I really didn’t realize that. When I found TIHAN, it was the greatest hope I had found in years.”

Sherri’s past was difficult. She had been on the streets for years, “selling my body” as she refers to that time. She was addicted to crack cocaine. Her recovery started with 12-step meetings: Cocaine Anonymous (CA) and Alcoholics Anonymous (AA). Still, she was on and off, high then sober for a while, then high, then sober. “Those meetings didn’t work too well for me because I kept hearing stories about how people did drugs and what it did to them, which is important, but it wasn’t helpful because it made me want to use” she relates. “But I got to a point of wanting to hear, ‘This is how you don’t do drugs and this how you live without them.’

Someone told me at one point that if you used yesterday and you didn’t use drugs today, then today you are a day old. And two years later, you are sober and two years old. And it takes time to mature, and you have to own that. It helped me better understand my addiction.”

After being sober for a few years, Sherri says she “fell.” She started using again and went to jail for prostitution. After serving her time, she went to a halfway house, and was working and all was going well—for three months. “Then I left and just went AWOL for a while. Then I talked to my daughter, it was on Mother’s Day. My daughter is the reason I turned myself back in after three months of being AWOL. I told my family and doctor and the judge ‘I want to clean up my mess. If I continue to be out there on the streets, I’m going to get very hurt or die.’ It was time for me to make my decision about what to do with my life that day.”

Sherri hasn’t used drugs since that day 10 years ago. But she considers herself sober for 7.5 years, because 2.5 years into her sobriety, she bought drugs and spent hours considering it, but not taking the drugs. “I kept calling people to talk to, but no one was available. Until about 10 hours later. But finally someone called me back and they did what I needed them to do—they talked me out of using it!”

Sherri has a small circle of friends. She also has a sister out of state, and two brothers—one who disowned her when she told him about having HIV, and one who is mostly concerned about making money. She’s especially proud of her beautiful 24-year old daughter with a job in healthcare. Their frayed relationship is being restored, one step at a time. “Because of my drug habit and being on the streets, her dad took custody and kept me away from her, which I understand. He’s taken good care of her, and I appreciate that. We talk every now and then, and meet sometimes, but that stopped due to COVID.”

Sherri lives in a rough neighborhood of Tucson. “There are drug dealers living all around me,” she shares. “I have to constantly pick up needles and drug paraphernalia from my apartment complex. I’m known for being the big mouth who yells at people who are throwing their needles on the ground. Pick that up!” It’s not the ideal location for someone in recovery, but moving to a new apartment is a challenge for several reasons. Sherri’s disability income is $760/month, so her options are limited, and low-income housing is most available in some tough areas of town.

A felony conviction in her background (30 years ago) also limits her options. “Plus, even though it’s a drug-infested neighborhood, it’s convenient for me. Since I walk or take the bus, so much is close to me. I have a grocery store close by and a laundromat. Plus, I live close to a library. I love to read. I read a lot—books, paperbacks, magazines. Newspapers from all over. I want to learn something new every day of my life. I can easily walk there. This library is a haven for me.”

During this COVID-19 pandemic, life has changed a lot for Sherri. That library is temporarily closed. She’s facing other health issues, including going through chemo and having surgery to amputate her toe.

“Everything I would normally do to help myself, I couldn’t. Like escaping to the library to read. There’s been a lot of downtime when I couldn’t do the extra work I usually do to supplement my income—housecleaning, sweeping parking lots, taking care of neighbors’ kids. So I’ve been down for about 6 months.” During this time, support from TIHAN became even more important to her.

“I never would have survived,” she states. “Between the pandemic, surgery, and chemo, it was overwhelming. The CarePackages, the hygiene items, the meals you provide, these gift cards to purchase food recently. And, you know, that laundry detergent is so important—it’s one of the hardest things for me to get. I would not have been able to survive without those things in the last six months.

“What I get from you guys (TIHAN), it changed everything. You guys changed everything about how I feel about myself. I still have a disease, even though it is undetectable, it’s still tough, and you guys make me feel welcome. Thanks is a small word, but when I say thank you, it is a whole lot bigger.”

Sherri marvels over how modern medicine has changed the world of HIV. “Medical miracles have saved so many of us from death,” she says. “I’m so grateful for the medicine. And even more grateful for the people that have connected me with others. It amazes me that TIHAN has all these volunteers. Everyone is doing it because they care, not because they have to get paid. It makes my heart big to know that people care that much.”

Sherri has a message for TIHAN’s donors and volunteers. “If I found a penny in your parking lot, I would make it a donation to you. God willing and the creek don’t rise, our world Is going to come together and it’s going to be easier for all of us. But until then, every penny and every minute donated will make it better. Even the smallest gift someone gives of time or money adds up, and it makes possible the good you have done for me. Thank you.”

When we first asked Sherri about sharing a bit of her story, she said no, but she quickly changed her mind. “You know what? I own my life,” she relates. “I know how and why my life is this way and if I can make someone else understand that you don’t have to make the same mistakes, I want to do that.”

Someday, you might encounter Sherri on the bus, or in the store, or at the doctor, or at TIHAN. If you do, she’s likely to try to connect with you in a simple way. “I talk to everyone,” she says, laughing. “I try to make a point of staring conversations. ‘Hello!’ ‘I like your shoes.’ ‘Nice dress.’ I make comments to people to show kindness. If we are not connecting with each other, how are we going to survive?”

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