 Why does Price have a Cure for alcoholism?
Name Your Symptom By JIM HARMON Illustrated by WEISS [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction May 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Henry Infield placed the insulated circlet on his head gently. "I dunno, Henry, but staying on our side is a pretty good way to keep sane Do you know that what we are doing is really the most primitive medicine in the world? One cannibal walking another with sleeping sickness doesn't cure anything. A psychiatrist wouldn't give a foetic gyro to a man with claustrophobia." "You know, Henry, not all of our Cures are so—so—not all are like that. Yet for a nominal sum, the patient is equipped to hear the soothing recorded voice of his mother saying, 'It's all right, everything's all right, Mommy loves you, it's all right....'" Or suppose he's walking down a railroad track and hears a train whistle—if he can hear anything over that verbal pablum gushing in his ear." But what about the severe case where we have to burn a three-dimensional smiling mother-image on the eyes of the patient with radiation? With that image over everything he sees and with that insidious voice drumming in his head night and day, do you mean to say that man's senses will only be impaired 23 per cent? Why, he'll turn violently schizophrenic sooner or later—and you know it. The only cure we have for that is still a strait jacket, a padded cell or one of those inhuman lobotomies." Many "Cures" were not readily apparent. A young man with black glasses and a radar headset (a photophobe) was unable to keep from being pushed against Infield. The magnetic suction dart dropped away from Infield like a thing that had been alive and now was killed. Infield's pulse raced, trying to get ahead of his thoughts, and losing out. People take one look at your Cure and don't ask you to go walking in the rain. Infield supposed it was a Cure, although he had never issued one like it. He didn't know if it would be good form to inquire what kind it was. "It's a cure for alcoholism," Price told him. "It runs a constant blood check to see that the alcohol level doesn't go over the sobriety limit." The Cures were supposed to save lives, not endanger them.
 Although he is not an alcoholic, he has a trauma-related aversion to drinking. The Cure is self-imposed.
 His alcoholism led him to destructive behavior in the past, including the death of his and Mrs. Price's only child.  Although he is not an alcoholic, Price wants to demonstrate his kinship with other people with Cures so that they are more likely to follow him.  Although he is not an alcoholic, he has a trauma-related aversion to drinking. The Cure is self-imposed.  He spends too much time at the Club drinking, despite Reggie's willingness to help him through the problem.