Title: Triskaidekaphobia 
Author: Brigid
Email: brigidandmike@juno.com
Rating: [G] 
Synopsis: Tom deals with a medical mystery 

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters. I thank them for letting me play with them. 

Thanks to Dasia for her excellent beta skills.

Date: September 2002

 

Triskaidekaphobia

Another day in sick bay. Tom was already bored and his shift was only half over. The doctor was on the 
holodeck playing golf, leaving his assistant alone. There were few true emergencies on Voyager unless 
they were in battle, and Tom had only seen one other person this morning. Crewman Lessing had 
sprained his wrist. It was easily healed but Tom had managed to keep Noah around long enough for a 
little conversation before Carey had called him back to engineering.

Another patient entered to break up the monotony but he wasn't one of Tom's favorites. Billy Telfer was a 
hypochondriac who reported to sick bay with new symptoms once or twice a week. 

"Lt. Paris, is the doctor around?" Billy asked. He had the usual look of fear that seemed to be a 
permanent fixture on his youthful face. 

"He's on the holodeck, Billy. Can I help you?"

"Oh, I don't think so, this is serious." 

"What's so serious, Billy?"

"I just came from the gym and Dalby said I didn't look good, he said I looked like I had Triskaidekaphobia. 
Is it serious?"

Tom looked at the younger man in disbelief, a look that did nothing to relieve the ensign's fear.

"It is serious, isn't it? Is it fatal? Can you treat it? Don't you think we need to call the Doctor?"

"Don't panic, Billy. It's treatable, but I'm not sure it's curable. Tell me what your symptoms are."

"I don't know, Dalby just looked at me and said he could tell. Do I have a rash? Is there something on my 
face? I think it might be swollen, " Billy offered as he touched one side of his face and then the other to 
see if they matched.

"What were you doing when Dalby made his 'diagnosis'? Tom asked.

"We were in the gym and I was doing pushups; I was up to number 14 when he told me what he thought. 
I'd already asked him to spot me on the weights and he'd started looking at me strange then. That's why I 
think he must have noticed something about my face. Don't you think you should call the doctor, Tom?" In 
his anxiety, Billy forgot the formal address. 

"Well, Billy. How did you feel when you got up this morning?"

"Fine, well as fine as I usually feel. I mean the dry air always aggravates my allergies so I was sneezing a 
little and my throat was scratchy. Is that one of the symptoms?"

Tom nodded sagely and pondered the padd he held in his hand as Billy continued, "It must have started 
on Deck 13, I had to clean the plasma conduits there. I did feel a little nauseous and dizzy."

"Notice any black cats while you were up there?"

"We don't really have any cats on Voyager do we?"

"I heard one escaped from the holodeck last week."

"No! I thought that was impossible."

"Yes, he ran out and right under the ladder that Harren was using while he repainted that corridor, section 
13." 

"Oh, my. I'm really starting to feel sick now, Tom. My palms are sweating and I'm really dizzy. I think I 
need to lie down. This Triskaidekaphobia must be serious. Don't you think you need to call the Doctor?" 

"Well, let's see what the medical tricorder says first." Tom ran the instrument over his now prone patient.

"Is it sensitive enough to detect something like this? I mean, I've never heard of it and I read a lot of 
medical books. Is it caused by an alien virus? I knew I should never have taken that shore leave two 
weeks ago. There had to be all kinds of viruses on that planet. Do you think the doctor has a cure?" 

"Billy, just lie still, close your eyes and count to twenty."

"Okkkayy," he stuttered. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, uh, uh, 
fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty."

Tom was having a hard time containing his laughter. "Billy, do you always skip thirteen?"

The young ensign shuddered at Tom's words, "Yes, well I always add two syllables so my counts aren't 
really off but I never actually say it out loud when I'm counting."

"Why?"

"Well, it's such an unlucky number. All sorts of horrible things have happened on the 13th of the month 
and particularly if it's a Friday."

"What kinds of horrible things Billy?"

"Well all the most awful things happened to me on the 13th. My first shuttle accident, boarding this ship 
for the first time, my first date, which was a disaster in itself." Billy was shuddering at the memories.

Tom was having trouble keeping his features composed when the doctor walked in. One look at the 
biobed and he considered turning around and heading back to the holodeck. His ethical subroutine, 
however, forced him to ask, "Well, Mr. Telfer, what seems to be the trouble today?" 

"It's Triskaidekaphobia, or at least I think that's what it is. Dalby noticed it in the gym." Billy replied 
unevenly.

"Triskaidekaphobia! What are you talking about?" The doctor looked at Tom who had a very suspicious 
grin on his face. 

"Dalby knew what it was just by looking at me."

"I find that hard to believe," the doctor replied dryly.

"Yeah, and Tom knew right away too."

The doctor gave Tom a look of skepticism. "Mr. Paris, care to explain?"

"Crewman Telfer arrived in an agitated state and asked me to verify Dalby's diagnosis. So, I asked him a 
couple of questions."

"What questions, specifically?"

"I asked him to count to twenty and as he skipped from number 12 to number 14 his blood pressure rose 
significantly. So I asked him directly if he was afraid of the number 13. We were having that discussion 
when you walked in." Tom's voice held a hint of mischief.

The doctor looked at the panicking ensign on the biobed and back at his medical assistant. "Alright, Mr. 
Paris, what do you suggest for a treatment?"

"Well, first I'd try to take his mind off it so his blood pressure would go back down." Tom began. At the 
doctor's nod, he continued. "Billy, what's so bad about being on Voyager? I mean, do you hate it here?"

"No, not really. I'd rather be on earth of course, where there's access to Starfleet Medical."

"Why do you need Starfleet Medical?"

"In case I come in contact with any viruses, I might need medical assistance right away."

"The doc is here for you 24 hours a day. He doesn't even sleep. I know the guys at Starfleet Medical 
rotate shifts and sleep. Isn't this sickbay better than that?"

"I guess so, but they have access to all the medical databases."

"So does the doc, and most of it's right there in his head." 

"Oh..."

Tom continued his line of questioning, "Who is your best friend on Voyager?"

"I guess, Tal, I mean, Ensign Celes is. She'd help me out with anything and she doesn't think I'm a 
hypochondriac like everyone else seems to think."

"What deck is Ensign Celes on?" Tom asked, keeping an eye on the medical tri-corder.

"She's on Deck 4, section 13. Why?"

The doctor snorted and was rewarded with a glare from Tom. With a roll of his eyes, he nodded to Tom to 
continue.

"Billy, are you glad you met Tal?"

"Yeah, she's a good friend."

"And how about Lt. Carey? You work with him in engineering, don't you?"

"He's a great guy. Oh, not that Lt. Torres isn't, Lt. Paris. I mean, she's great too, but Lt. Carey will really sit 
down and talk to you when you're so lonely you could cry."

"I know what you mean, Billy. You and Noah Lessing have been spending some time together too haven't 
you?"

"Yeah, he's from my part of Earth, Kansas. And he likes to play baseball. When we can get holodeck time 
together we have one heck of a good game of baseball." 

"Would you have met any of these people if you hadn't wound up on Voyager?"

"No, I guess not."

"That would be too bad, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, I suppose. I'd really miss Tal in particular and Noah and I guess Lt. Carey and even Lt. Torres and 
you." Billy's voice was calm now and a quick look at the medical tricorder showed his blood pressure 
normal again.

"Billy, you said your first date was a disaster. What was your second date like?"

"It was great, the same girl asked me out again. She said the first time was so traumatic that she thought 
we ought to try again," the young man replied with a shy grin.

"A special girl?"

"Not really, just a good friend now."

"So wouldn't you say your first date was kind of lucky since it led to your second date and your 
friendship?"

"Okay, maybe it wasn't as unlucky as I thought. But, Tom, you're a 20th century buff, remember Apollo 13 
and what a disaster that was?"

"Yeah, I do. Remember the astronaut, Commander Mattingly, who couldn't go because he'd been 
exposed to measles? He really thought 13 was his unlucky number, didn't he?"

"Yeah and it really was."

Tom's voice held calm and logic, "Was it? He was the one who came up with the means of saving the 
other crew members when they discovered they had a problem and might not make it back. The problem 
was already there, had nothing to do with the number 13 but they were sure lucky to have a friend on the 
ground who could fix it."

The doctor thought about pointing out the flaw in Tom's logic but another look from Voyager's newest 
psychologist stopped him.

"You mentioned a shuttle accident, Billy. When was that?" Tom asked.

"Oh, my first year at the academy. I was in about the 6th week of flight instruction when Professor Snipe 
took me up in the shuttle. He kept barking out orders and I kept following them or at least I thought I was 
following them. But somehow we ended up in the lake on the academy grounds. He was furious and I 
thought I would be expelled for sure but the caretaker, Boothby, came over and talked to the professor 
and by the time he was done the professor was laughing and the maintenance team had pulled the 
shuttle out of the lake and was on the way back to the hangar. I did get a lousy grade on that lesson but I 
passed the course and Boothby and I got to be friends." Billy finished wistfully.

"Sounds like it wasn't such bad luck after all."

"No, maybe not."

The doctor had had his fill of amateur psychology and finally interjected, "Mr. Telfer, this stroll down 
memory lane is all very nice but it's only fair to tell you that Triskaidekaphobia is the irrational fear of the 
number 13. You certainly have all the symptoms but it is not a life threatening illness. Like all your other 
phobias you need to take it in stride and make an effort not to let it interfere with your work. I suppose 
you're cleaning plasma conduits on Deck 13 today?"

"How did you know?"

"Just a lucky guess."

"Well, what do I do now?"

"I would suggest finishing your duties before Lt. Torres puts you on report," the doctor answered. 

"Go back to Deck 13?" Billy asked as he paled.

"Think of it as therapy."

Billy looked at Tom beseechingly. 

"Hey, Billy, just think of it as an opportunity to meet up with Celes. I hear she's running the diagnostics on 
the consoles on Deck 13 today." Tom flashed his most confident smile.

"Ooookay, I guess I can try it... Aren't you even going to give me anything for my stomach, Doc? It seems 
to have butterflies in it all of a sudden."

"Yes, this highly valued medical database who never rests would be happy to give you something for your 
upset tummy, ensign," the EMH grumbled as he filled a hypospray. He pressed it into Billy's neck while 
the young man visibly cringed. 

After Ensign Telfer had been sent back to the plasma conduits on Deck 13 Tom contacted Lt. Torres to 
see if she didn't want to send Crewman Celes to check out the faltering consoles on Deck 13. The doctor 
then had a few choice words for his assistant on proper patient care. 

*** 

Several days later a pensive Ensign Telfer approached Tom in the messhall. "Could I talk to you for a 
minute, Lieutenant?"

"Sure, Billy, what can I do for you?"

"Well, I guess I need to thank you."

"For what?"

"For helping me with my Triskaidekaphobia."

"Are you telling me you're cured?" Tom asked in surprise.

"No, but I think I understand a little more about it. The doctor called it an irrational fear of the number 13; 
but you made me look at all my bad luck and realize how it might not be so bad after all... You don't hate 
being on Voyager, do you? And you arrived on the same day I did."

"You're right, I don't hate being on Voyager, Billy. This is my home and where I fell in love with B'Elanna 
and where I really was given a chance to make something of myself."

"So, I guess what you were trying to tell me in sickbay was that bad luck is really what you make of it. And 
believing that the number 13 is bad doesn't necessarily mean that it's bad, you just have to look for the 
good things that happened too." 

"Everybody's luck is what they make of it."

"Thanks, Tom; I mean Lt. Paris. I mean, well I need to head for sickbay."

"Why do you need to go to sickbay, Billy?"

"When I woke up this morning I found a lump here under my arm and I want the doctor to look at it and 
make sure it isn't some kind of lymphoma."

"Billy, the cure for lymphoma was discovered years ago. There hasn't been a case on earth in a century."

"But we're not on earth, Lt. Paris, and there's no telling what kinds of things are still running around here 
in the Delta quadrant. I just don't want to take any chances. See you later."

Tom shook his head as he watched the young man wander off in the direction of sickbay. "Well, this will 
certainly make another interesting entry in the doctor's logs." 

A hand on his shoulder brought Tom back to the moment as he looked up at the love of his life. "Hey," he 
grinned.

"Hey to you. What are you thinking about so seriously?" B'Elanna asked as she scooted into the seat next 
to him.

With his arm around her shoulders Tom gravely explained, "A case I helped the doctor with recently, a 
serious infestation of Triskaidekaphobia..." 

The end.