JAIL HELPS WOMAN COME TO TERMS WITH ADDICTION

Thinking she contracted hepatitis C from shooting heroin, Carol
Leslie asked her mom to test her.

But when it came time to draw the blood, her mother, who works for
the LaPorte County Health Department, couldn't find a viable vein.
"She's like 'Oh my God, I can't even ... it's hard as a rock,'"
Leslie, who is from Michigan City, recalled her mom saying of the
veins in her track-ridden right arm.

Leslie grabbed the needle and stuck it in her arm with ease. She
looked up and saw her mother with tears streaming down her face.

"What have you done to yourself?" her mother asked.

Leslie, now 24, started using heroin two years ago. As a stay-at-home
mom with a toddler, she popped pills out of boredom. When her supply
of the prescription pain killer OxyContin ran dry, her friend suggested heroin.

After five months of snorting, she began shooting the drug
intravenously. All the while, her friends and family knew nothing.

"I was very functional," Leslie said. "I would do it, and I'd be able
to clean my house."

Eventually, her need for money caught up with her. Leslie landed in
the Porter County jail last April on charges of identity deception.
She'll stay until at least next month.

Her mom said to her, "You know what Carol Ann? It's better that
you're there, not sticking drugs in your arms. I don't have to worry
about you in here."

Sitting in jail for the past two months has given her a chance to
clear her head -- both figuratively and physically. She's disgusted
by the lies she told her family to support her habit and worried sick
about her release.

Her plan is to not tell her friends where she's going or what she's
doing when she's out. The only way for her to stay away from heroin
is to separate herself from the source.

"I don't want to be 40 years old and sitting in jail like some people
who come in," she said. "It's no big deal for them. Well, screw that.
It is a big deal. It's jail. I want a life."

Even the scars on her body from the needle injections have begun to
fade. Sitting in a conference room in the Porter County Jail, Leslie
pushed up her ratty white shirt and gingerly rubbed her forearms.

"I'm not scarred for life," she said.