FORMER ADDICT HELPS OTHERS BEAT HABITS

"Sept. 16, 1995," Andrea Dannar answers without so much as a second's
pause. She doesn't have to stop and think about the exact date, the day the
then-32-year-old mother of five woke up, after nearly killing herself with
a syringe full of methamphetamine the night before, and decided her
decades-long drug addiction had to end.

It was the lowest point in a life full of low points. Sexually abused as a
child. A manic-depressive mother. Several failed marriages. An addiction to
shooting up meth daily. She would wear long-sleeve shirts in the summer and
shoot up between her toes so friends, family and casino co-workers wouldn't
notice the needle marks.

"Death, institutions, jail. That's where I was heading," said Dannar, now
38. "It was basically like a living hell. I just remember waking up and
thinking, all this doom and gloom, it's got to change."

It did change. Boy, did it ever.

These days, she looks more like a soccer mom than an addict. In less than
six years - a third of the time she spent addicted to meth - Dannar not
only got clean, but she has also been promoted three times at her job at a
Redmond treatment center where she helps others kick their addictions.
Plus, she's in a healthy marriage to a "normy" - a former addict's term for
someone who has never suffered through an addiction. Her relationship with
her kids, two of whom she lost custody of as a result of her addiction, is
improving daily.

Around 10 a.m., with her kids, father, aunts, uncles and friends looking
on, Dannar will graduate from college, one of six graduating in the
inaugural class of a new addiction studies program COCC launched this year.

The one-year certificate program trains students, many of whom have never
tried drugs, for counseling work at drug treatment centers.

"It feels so good. Finally, something," Dannar said.

"I've been through the worst part; now I just have to keep it steady. But
this, this is kind of like the big time."

Dannar is "a star" in the program, but there are others this year and more
sure to follow, said Diane Kirk, director of the addiction studies program.
COCC decided to launch the program this year because the market for
addiction treatment counselors is burgeoning.

"I tell my students, unfortunately, we will never be out of a job," she said.

In the past, Kirk says, recovery programs for drug addicts largely came in
two colors - exclusive resorts for the wealthy, like the Betty Ford Center,
or more commonly, 12-step outpatient programs like Alcoholics Anonymous
staffed largely by former addicts with big hearts but little professional
training.

While Nancy Reagan was telling the nation to "just say no," state and
federal funding came in at a trickle, Kirk said. The nation, it seemed, was
more interested in putting addicts behind bars than into treatment.

"But that's changing, and we're on the forefront," she said. "The field is
heading toward becoming more professionalized. We know things are much too
complex to just say no."

Kirk said the program is designed around national guidelines recently
developed for counselors.

The one-year addiction studies certificate program helps prepare students
to pass the federal Certified Alcohol and Drug Counselor I exam, which is
often required by treatment centers for anything over a minimum-wage,
entry-level job. Most who graduate with the certificate will go to jobs as
counselors in drug treatment centers.

But in Central Oregon, even the certificate is no guarantee of finding work
because the region has been slow to jump on the treatment bandwagon. The
region is home to just one adult residential treatment center, the BestCare
Treatment Center in Redmond.

It's also the only facility in the area that offers an inpatient detox
program, in which patients are kept under close supervision and are
sometimes offered medication while going through initial withdrawal symptoms.

All this despite the fact that only 25 percent of the nearly 10,000 people
who need alcohol or drug treatment in Deschutes County alone actually
received that treatment, according to a 1999 survey.

The reason?

"It's money," said Roger Kryzanek, health care integration manager at the
Deschutes County Mental Health Department.

"It's a black hole. The hope is to divert people from hospitals and jails,
and it's really unfortunate that the state de-emphasizes detox funding."

He predicts little progress toward decreasing the rate of drug and alcohol
addiction until more state and federal funding goes to treatment programs.

"It makes sense. You have these people who've been takers from society most
of their lives. Now, they're completing an education program so they can
have a profession so that they can get a job and be taxpayers," he said.
"Then, they're not takers. They're contributing."