I grew up in poverty, in a broken home, and dropped out of high school. By the time I was 14, I was already working, and by 16, I was employed full time — bouncing from one low-wage job to the next, constantly just scraping by. Like too many Americans, I lived on the edge of survival for most of my young adult life.

In 2010, while living in Chicago and self-employed, my already-precarious situation took a life-altering turn: I tested positive for HIV. I was barely able to afford rent, let alone the medical treatment necessary to manage a chronic, life-threatening illness. That year could have been the beginning of the end for me. But it wasn’t, and that’s because I was able to access Medicaid and the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP).

Those two programs saved my life. Medicaid gave me access to the medication and doctors I needed to stay alive. SNAP ensured I had enough food to eat. I didn’t just survive, I began to heal. And for the first time, I saw a path forward.

In 2011, I moved to California and was able to transfer my benefits. It was there that I met a therapist, paid for through my Medicaid coverage. She did more than just support my mental health — she guided me through the maze of government programs and introduced me to the California Department of Rehabilitation. Because HIV is considered a disability, I qualified for vocational rehab services. And that’s how I found my way into nursing school.

Between 2011 and 2015, I depended on Medicaid (Medi-Cal in California) to control my disease, I depended on SNAP to eat and on the generosity of a friend who helped keep a roof over my head. I graduated with a Bachelor of Science in nursing in December of 2015. By early 2016, I was working full-time as a registered nurse.

Since then, I’ve built a stable, fulfilling life. I have employer-provided health insurance. I pay a substantial amount in federal and state taxes; I own a home; and I have contributed back to my community — not only through my tax dollars, but also through the care I provide as a nurse.

 I’m living proof of what can happen when we choose compassion over cruelty, and investment over abandonment. Programs like Medicaid and SNAP help people not just survive but thrive.

That’s why I’m terrified of the federal budget recently approved by Congress, which has the support of my representative, Congressman Kevin Kiley. This budget puts these safety nets in jeopardy, threatening the lives and futures of the people who need Medicaid and SNAP most.

If I were in the same position today that I was back in 2010, I don’t think I’d make it. The cost of HIV treatment is astronomical without insurance. Access to housing, food and mental health services has only become more difficult. The idea that someone in my shoes today might be denied the help that saved my life is more than heartbreaking, it’s horrifying.

Cutting these programs affects real people in your neighborhood — people who are sick, who are struggling and who are just trying to survive. And it doesn’t just kill hope. In many cases, it will kill people.

 I am not an exception. I am an example of what happens when we get policy right. When we invest in people, they give back. They build lives, strengthen their communities, pay taxes and make our society better. But none of that is possible if we pull the rug out from under those who are most vulnerable.

Medicaid and SNAP are not handouts. They are tools that help people get back on their feet. We should expand them, not gut them. We should be proud to live in a country that cares for its people in times of need.

I’m alive today because someone once had the political courage to invest in programs that gave me a chance. Please don’t take that chance away from someone else.

This opinion piece was originally published in The Sacramento Bee »