Pubdate: Fri, 08 Jul 2011
Source: Vancouver Courier (CN BC)
Copyright: 2011 Vancouver Courier
Contact:  http://www.vancourier.com/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/474
Author: Mark Hasiuk
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/rehab.htm (Treatment)

HOME SICK

Despite millions in government funding, addiction recovery homes in 
Vancouver operate without clear definitions of success while Welcome 
Home, a private abstinence-based facility in Surrey, says it measures 
success in sobriety

The face of recovery. Bright. Smiling. Hopeful.

Nick Runowski, a handsome 28-year-old with blue eyes and matching 
blazer, can't help but smile. "I have my life back. I feel feelings. 
I have emotions. I have my family back in my life. I have mentorship, 
fellowship. I'm probably living a better life than 90 per cent of 
people out there."

Runowski took his first drink at 13. Adding cocaine and OxyContin to 
the mix, he graduated from user to dealer. In Vancouver's Downtown 
Eastside, he dealt drugs to feed his addictions. His life was dark, 
his future bleak. Until Oct. 15, 2009, when he walked into Welcome 
Home, an abstinence-based residential recovery home straddling the 
King George Highway in Surrey.

He's been clean and sober ever since.

Last fiscal year, the provincial government spent $1.3 billion on 
mental health and addictions services. In this era of harm reduction, 
high-profile initiatives (the Insite supervised injection site, the 
methadone maintenance program) seek to mitigate the effects of drug 
abuse (disease transmission, drug-related crime) while the concept of 
abstinence-based treatment fades from public consciousness.

Meanwhile, the Ministry of Health, through Vancouver Coastal Health, 
helps bankroll five addiction recovery homes in Vancouver. The homes 
operate in a bureaucratic nebula with limited oversight, relative 
mandates and anecdotal evidence of success. And all five homes 
embrace varying degrees of harm reduction, where addicts may continue 
using drugs while in residence.

Conversely, Welcome Home's strict abstinence-based approach sets 
clear guidelines: no drugs, no alcohol, no exceptions. Success is 
measured in sobriety. Among Vancouver's government-funded recovery 
homes, there's nothing like Welcome Home.

Back at the Welcome Home cafeteria in Surrey, Nick Runowski shakes 
his head and reflects on his new life without drugs and alcohol. "It 
was very tough for the first few months," says Runowski, who was born 
in Vancouver but raised in Surrey. "This is not just a recovery 
house, it's a life-skills academy."

Founded in 2009 by millionaire businessman John Volken, former owner 
of United Furniture Warehouse, the facility accommodates 22 
recovering addicts (20 men, two women) who live in five houses on 
King George Highway near 72nd Avenue. They work across the street at 
Welcome Home's Costco-style general merchandise store.

Except for a $387 registration fee, the program is free, funded by 
revenue from the store and The John Volken Foundation. Welcome Home 
has never applied for government funding.

Bound by strict protocol, program participants (known as students) 
must remain on site. Furlough passes are earned. Contact with the 
outside world--phone, Internet--is strictly regulated. There are no 
drug counsellors at Welcome Home. Policy springs from a non-profit 
board of directors comprised of businesspeople, physicians and 
others. Students rely on each other for therapy. Peer-to-peer 
sessions explore the roots of addiction--past trauma, insecurity, 
egotism--and foster friendships based on mutual respect and reliance. 
Anyone caught drinking or doing drugs is expelled from the program.

According to Runowski, there's no other way. "Addicts are the 
greatest manipulators. That's the nature of the beast. If it's 
provided, than they'll use it. But it doesn't mean they're going to 
get any foresight or help."

Abstinence and Vancouver. Those two words rarely conjoin.

"We are the closest to it," says Brenda Plant, executive director of 
Turning Point, a large, leafy 22-bed recovery house at Cambie and 13th Avenue.

She's right. While Turning Point allows clients to use drugs such as 
Valium, OxyContin and morphine, unlike Vancouver's other four 
government-funded recovery homes, it does not allow methadone. (Note: 
Lax regulation and oversight plague the methadone program, which does 
not include mandatory drug treatment or counselling.)

According to Plant, the province provides less than 10 per cent of 
Turning Point's budget, although most clients draw some form of 
income assistance. Every year, an official from Vancouver Coastal 
Health reviews and renews Turning Point's contract. However, the 
"review" seems incomplete.

Like other recovery homes, Turning Point struggles to maintain 
contact with clients after they complete their minimum three-month 
residential stint. According to Plant, she successfully tracks 
roughly half of Turning Point's former clients. Of that half, she 
says, 85 per cent are clean and sober one year after entering the 
program. But that figure is based on "self reporting" from recovering 
addicts. "So we're absolutely taking it at their word," Plant says.

Subsequently, during yearly contract discussions with Vancouver 
Coastal Health, Plant does not supply success rates. Due to the 
changing nature of addictions recovery, including the popularity of 
harm reduction, uniformed definitions of success don't exist. "In the 
old days, success was measured by three months after graduation, 
you're still sober," says Plant. "Because we understand that lapses 
and relapses are part of the recovery process, that's not a great 
indicator anymore."

If you think the process seems flaky, you're not alone. Plant is 
frustrated with a lack of accountability in the recovery industry. 
"Give us benchmarks or help us set benchmarks or outcomes," she says. 
"We are talking about people lives. We are talking about the most 
vulnerable part of our population. God, somebody hold us 
accountable--because the clients can't."

Plant also worries about unlicensed facilities throughout the Lower 
Mainland that receive no government money. A recent story in the 
Surrey Now newspaper spotlighted poorly managed homes in Surrey where 
addicts receive a bed, and little else, while home operators make big 
money. "And there's no board or authority figure holding them 
accountable for what kind of programming they're doing."

The Central City Lodge is a 22-bed recovery house at 415 West Pender 
in the heart of Vancouver's drug-infested Downtown Eastside. It's a 
90-day residential program. Harm reduction rules. Clients may use 
methadone and other prescription drugs.

Unlike Turning Point, which receives a minimal amount of government 
funding, Central City is basically owned by taxpayers. The province 
supplies 94 per cent of the Central City budget.

So how's it going?

That depends on your perspective. According to manager Barbara Keith, 
Central City offers stability to addicts and helps them integrate 
back into society. But tracking addicts, who've only spent three 
months in residence, is challenging. While Central City includes 
voluntary aftercare, many former clients fall off the radar. "We 
don't do follow-up, in that we go out and track people down and find 
out how they're doing."

Moreover, according to Keith, while in the program, clients split 
time in residence and on the street. "They're in programs, in group, 
in the morning. But they have the afternoon free to go to the community."

But that's a pretty rough neighbourhood. When they leave the 
facility, how do you know they're not doing drugs? "They're not in jail, here."

The Courier contacted all five government-funded recovery homes in 
Vancouver including Together We Can, a recovery home on Kingsway and 
the Salvation Army's Homestead, a women-only 24-bed house at Oak and 
57th. Only New Dawn, an East Side recovery home owned by the 
Chrysalis Society, refused to cooperate for this story.

Jennifer Canning, executive director at Homestead, acknowledges the 
need for standards and success rates. According to Canning, she's on 
the case. "We're currently working out a plan of how we quantify if a 
woman has been successful, with the understanding that success for 
every women is going to be different."

So what's the province say about all of this? How do provincial 
officials, who dump millions each year into the recovery industry, 
gauge success? And what about comments from Brenda Plant and others, 
who complain about a lack of accountability in the recovery industry?

Despite repeated interview requests, Mike de Jong, B.C.'s Minister of 
Health, refused to comment on this story. David Ostrow, CEO of 
Vancouver Coastal Health, also refused comment. However, addiction 
experts have raised concerns. According to an August 2010 article in 
B.C. Business magazine, Benedikt Fischer, interim director of SFU's 
Centre for Applied Research in Mental Health and Addiction, is 
baffled at the province's approach to addictions recovery. "In B.C. 
we're not terribly good at measuring the impact of any of the 
programs," said Fischer. "I have no idea how [health ministry 
bureaucrats] make policy decisions when they have no information."

Meanwhile, back at Welcome Home in Surrey, things are less fuzzy.

"Places like this, total abstinence, help people get a life, become 
the best they can be," says founder John Volken. "What good are you 
to society, or yourself mainly, if you're an addict?"

Born in Germany, Volken arrived in Canada in 1960. He speaks in soft 
tones with a slight German accent, and despite a neatly cropped grey 
beard, looks much younger than his 70 years. When asked about his 
dramatic shift from furniture to addictions recovery, Volken points 
to his Christian faith and the responsibility of wealthy people. 
"Some guys put their money in art or other things, I put my money in this."

According to Volken and others who promote abstinence-based recovery, 
there are several problems with most recovery homes in British 
Columbia. For starters, the length of commitment, typically three 
months, is far too short. Addicts require more time in residence to 
heal and grow. Welcome Home, for example, requires a minimum two-year 
commitment. "Short-term programs for drug addicts," says Volken, 
"simply don't work."

But that's easy for Volken to say--he's a millionaire whose deep 
pockets help pay for two-year commitments. Considering the current 
state of government-funded addictions treatment, is Volken's model, 
based on similar facilities in Europe, transferable? Could taxpayers 
help fund Welcome Home-style facilities around B.C.?

Maybe, maybe not. But according to Volken, at the very least, 
existing recovery homes could incorporate Welcome Home principles 
(abstinence, heavy emphasis on personal responsibility) while 
millions spent on harm reduction experiments (the supervised 
injection site) help pay the bills. Volken's a strong critic of harm 
reduction philosophy. "Those who really know about addiction, those 
who want to free themselves from addiction, are against this harm reduction."

Since 2009, hundreds have entered Welcome Home in Surrey and a sister 
facility in Seattle, which is also funded by Volken's foundation. The 
majority have been expelled or left voluntarily before graduation. 
Like other recovery homes, Welcome Home struggles to track former 
clients. But despite the high dropout rate (more than 50 per cent), 
Volken says the abstinence-based approach benefits anyone who enters 
the program. "We leave a footprint on all who come here. Even if 
they're just here for a couple of weeks. They see something healthy, 
something good." Now more than two years in, the program is beginning 
to produce graduates--a combined 25 from both facilities so far.

Whatever you're thoughts on abstinence-based recovery, there's no 
denying its transformative impact on Nick Runowski. He'll be two 
years sober on Oct. 15. He's been given a second chance on life. You 
can see it in his eyes. "I thank God, I look forward to each day. 
I've changed completely and I'm still growing. If you told me two 
years ago I'd be where I am today, I would have never believed it."
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MAP posted-by: Jay Bergstrom