REHAB HOUSE HOPES FOR BIGGER QUARTERS

PHIL Goss got over his meth addiction the hard way. He served nine
years in a penitentiary for armed robbery in the late '70s, was
released and discovered his drug of choice had dried up. He began a
death dance with heroin and alcohol instead, a battle that saw him
enter and leave treatment programs across the country, quit, relapse
and repeat. He's a counsellor at Winnipeg's Tamarack Rehab now, a
voice of experience who can't be fooled, can't be bluffed and can't be
impressed. He's been sober for eight years.

"People will go through all the programs we have in the city, then
walk out the door and use," he says. "They need the right length of
time in a program. They have to reinvent themselves. They have to be
ready."

Tamarack offers a 60-day rehab program for drug users who have already
completed a one-month primary-care program. There's room for only 12
clients at a time. They live in a rambling old house on Balmoral
Street, get group and individual therapy, take part in at least four
self-help programs a week and stick to strict curfews.

If they slip, they're out. No second chances.

The big news for meth and crack addicts (and the folks who want to see
them straight) is that Tamarack is poised to move into larger quarters
on Stradbrook Avenue. Their new digs would give them 21 beds, allow
for a six-month transition program, provide room for physically
challenged clients and provide day programming for single parents.

All they need is another $200,000 annually and they can open the
doors. Much of their current $285,000 annual funding comes from the
provincial government; per diems ranging between $50 and $85 a day
make up the shortfall. For many clients, welfare or the correctional
system pays the freight.

"Crystal meth addicts, they need six months," says executive director
Doug Cooper. "You've got to make it long-term or it doesn't work for
them."

The only catch? It seems Cooper might be rushing things a
bit.

"We only received their package a couple of weeks ago," says Terry
Goertzen, acting director of Mental Health and Addictions. "We really
haven't had the time to look at it."

The province -- and this is the way taxpayers want it to work -- needs
to make sure there's a demand for the increased spaces and the
long-term program before they fund it. The people at Tamarack are
convinced there's a need. A meeting is scheduled for tomorrow to iron
out some of the details.

The province isn't making any promises until they've consulted with
other organizations and agencies to make sure there's no duplication
of services.

Clients at the rehab aren't coddled. Their days begin at 7 with
chores, followed by lessons, counselling, workshops and group therapy.

Kristen, a 22-year-old recovering crack and alcohol addict, says
Tamarack has saved her life. A longer-term program, she says, would
just make it easier to stay straight. "It was like a blessing to find
this place," says the mother of two. "I have found my greater power, I
have found AA. Everything is good. I'm looking forward to getting my
kids back."

She started using alcohol at 12, had her first baby at 15, graduated
to crack after high school. She says Tamarack has not only helped her
stay clean, it has helped her understand the underlying issues around
her substance abuse.

"I know the odds are against me," she says. "I was here in a group and
only two of them made it. I pray to God every day to just take me day
by day."

Phil Goss says Tamarack operates on an 80/20 basis.

Eighty per cent of their clients don't get or stay straight. It's the
20 per cent who make the counsellors want to keep the lights on.

"We give them a safe place to live. Left to their own defences,
loneliness sets in. They go back to their old friends. They forget
what they've learned. Really, you can't help people who don't want to
be helped," he says.

"Moms and dads, sorry. All the caring and the programs in the world
aren't going to help a person who doesn't want to be helped."

But those 20 per cent, the ones who work the program and stick with it
even when the siren song of the drug seems irresistible, they're worth
the money.

When Goss got out of the pen in the late seventies, meth was hard to
find. Not anymore. Ask the parents of addicts and listen to their
sorrow and frustration. We need these beds. We need longer-term
treatment. We need to find a way to fund a program that may be the
last chance for many of our addicts. It doesn't have to be Tamarack
but it does have to happen.