MOM HID HABIT FROM HUSBAND, TEEN KIDS

"Where there's money, there will always be crack. Lots and lots of it."

Janet (not her real name) should know. For the past couple of years,
the 40-year-old businesswoman and mother of two made it a priority to
get her hands on the highly destructive and addictive drug.

But even though there was plenty of it in her community, it's not easy
to quietly score when you live in a small Alberta/B.C. border town,
when your husband is one of the area's biggest employers and when you
drive a brand new, $80,000 SUV.

"I had this other company's big sticker that I'd put on my car to
throw people off," she says with a self-deprecating laugh. "I even
considered buying a wig . . . now how crazy was that?"

One thing she couldn't do with a house filled with teenagers was call
the "dial-a-dopers," dealers who would deliver crack cocaine right to
her door. "I couldn't risk my kids, or my husband, being there when
they showed up."

So Janet, who got "instantly hooked" on the drug in the summer of 2005
after trying it at a party near her vacation home in the Okanagan,
would meet her dealers in parking lots and back alleys.

"I'd watch them go from one expensive vehicle to another, doing
drop-offs," she says with a shake of her head.

"I learned pretty quickly I wasn't the only professional in my
community who was a crackhead."

Janet, who looks like a younger Carrie Fisher and is adorned in
expensive jewelry, says in the first few weeks of trying to get the
drug, she was confused for an undercover police officer. "I had to use
a middleman at first, until they got to know me. I also wouldn't go
near crack houses, in case someone recognized me."

She estimates she spent about $1,000 a week on her habit, dipping into
various bank accounts so her husband wouldn't notice. "I got one bonus
cheque for $5,000 and went through it in three weeks."

For nearly a year, she told her husband she was suffering from
depression, hardly going out of the house to even shop for groceries.
"The minute he'd leave, I'd bound out of bed and go get my crack pipe."

She'd even lie to the dealers, asking them to cut her order in half,
"because I was sharing it with a friend. "It was all lies, lies, lies.
I'm so relieved I don't have to lie anymore."

Today, Janet is trying to kick her habit at the Orchard, a substance
abuse treatment centre on Bowen Island, a 20-minute ferry ride from
West Vancouver. She's the first to admit her so-called moment of
clarity, when she realized she had to quit, came courtesy of the RCMP.

She and a fellow addict drove at night to a dealer's house just before
Christmas. Waiting for them wasn't the dealer, but several officers.
They arrested the pair and tore apart Janet's SUV looking for drugs.

"My kids' Christmas presents were strewn all over the snow," she
says.

Her husband picked her up a few hours later at the station. "My
cellphone number was on every dealer's speed dial around," she says.
"I'm sure they thought I was a dealer, too."

Today, she's thankful for the legal intervention. "One of the officers
looked in my eyes and said, 'You need help. You need rehab.' "

"He was the first person to call me on my addiction."

In treatment since the new year, Janet considers herself fortunate. "I
met people who used to have good careers, used to have a nice home,
but lost it all, including their family," she says.

"My husband's been incredible and my whole family is supporting me in
my recovery," she says.

"I am one of the lucky ones."