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Stroked: part 6


He could hear the stat call being paged for Dr. Harriman and 
soon the room was crowded with medical personnel. They were 
wrapping a blood pressure cuff around his right arm and 
talking to him in low calm voices but he was confused. Words 
seemed jumbled and he could not communicate that he did not 
understand what they were saying. And the part that bothered 
him the most was that his partner was missing from the crowd. 
He felt panicked.

A soft and gentle hand touched his face and a face of a blue 
eyed nurse came down within his visual field, "Mr. Mulder, 
I've called your partner and explained that you've had some 
problems and she is on her way to the hospital. I don't want 
you to get upset by the things happening around you. The 
staff is concerned for your health and they want to know 
what has caused your paralysis. They are going to do 
whatever it takes to get you better. Dr Harriman will be 
here in a few minutes." Her voice was gentle and soothing.

Within a few seconds they could hear Dr. Harriman bellowing 
up the hall and when he entered the room he looked upset, 
"What the Hell happened Mulder?" He asked a very stunned 

He could not answer but he felt that the doctor was mad 
at him. Had he done something that he shouldn't have done 
or was his doctor angry at the turn of events. Whatever 
was upsetting his physician he could not help. The panic 
and nervousness he was experiencing was overriding all 
other thoughts, he was paralyzed on his left side. He could 
not communicate and he felt helpless.

Unfortunately the people in the room seemed just as panicked 
as he felt. He heard Dr. Harriman shouting orders as the 
nurse next to him was gathering his IV poles and medicine 
bags that were hanging. They were hooking him up to monitors, 
the pulse oximeter was being clipped to his finger and a 
mask was placed over his face to deliver oxygen. The smell 
of the plastic made him nauseated but he was not going to 
vomit. He would not allow another embarrassing moment. He 
felt someone tugging at his gown and then a sharp jab was 
going into his arm. Apologies were given but no explanation. 
He wanted answers and he wanted them now.

A gurney appeared beside of his bed and he had to close his 
eyes to prevent the emesis from spilling as they transferred 
him to the small space. Someone had disconnected the feeding 
tube for the umpteenth time and he was moving down the 
hallway of Georgetown Medical. The voices grew louder as he 
was rolled into what seemed to be Radiology.

Again he needed to quell the need to vomit as they placed 
him on a cold metal table. A voice came close to him and 
announced that he would be getting a CT scan of the head 
followed by a MRI,but those terms meant very little to a 
nonprofessional. The test started and he was still numb 
and everything was happening so fast. He was scared, 
probably more than he had ever been before. Where was 
Scully? He needed Scully.

The CAT scan of his brain took a while and when they 
removed him they took him into the other room and placed him 
into another machine that made loud noises. He felt short of 
breath and he could not figure if it was due to be scared 
or if he just could not get a good breath of air.

When they finished Dr. Harriman and a man in a white lab 
coat walked over to his gurney. Dr Harriman bent down close 
to his patient and spoke in a quiet tone of voice, it was 
almost calming, but Mulder realized quickly by the facial 
expressions that the news was not going to be good. " Mulder 
we are going to admit you to neurological ICU. You have had 
a stroke. I believe that a piece of the clot broke off in 
your leg and traveled to your brain. There is a lot of 
swelling but this is normal and I feel as the swelling goes 
down and the clot dissolves that things will improve. I know 
everything is very confusing and I really don't know what 
you are comprehending right now but if you remember nothing 
else or understand nothing else please know that we are 
doing our best to get you better."

His world was worsening. Words were getting jumbled and a 
foggy haze was coming down on top of him. If felt like a 
deep sleep but he could not dream. It was if the world had 
taken on a frozen state.

One week later

Mulder had been in a coma for the past seven days. The 
swelling in his brain had worsened but with the assistance 
of the drug Mannitol and the passing of time the swelling 
was showing a marked decrease and Mulder had started showing 
signs of consciousness. They were unable to give TPA (TYPE 
PLASMINOGEN ACTIVATOR) due to Mulder being on Heparin due to 
his bedridden status and the blood clot in his leg. The PTT 
level was too elevated so they were had been unable to 
administer the medicine becasue of the risk of bleeding.

Scully watched as his eyes moved back and forth underneath 
his eyelids. He would reach out for her even with restrained 
hands and he was now sporting the ventilator due to his 
respiratory status being compromised by the swelling in his 
brain. The prognosis was good but they were unsure of what, 
if any damage had been done mentally or physically. She was 
just happy to see him awakening from his long sleep.

When he was finally able to open his eyes he saw Scully. He 
wanted to hold her. He needed to hold her close. He started 
to cry and was reaching out for her with his restrained 
right hand. She quickly read his need and reached down and 
held him. She could feel the tears slipping from his eyes 
and he wanted to just feel her. His left side was still 
paralyzed and he felt trapped inside his body. The 
ventilator was choking him slightly and he felt that he 
needed to cough but was prevented from doing so, it must be 
the drugs he thought to himself.

Time passed slowly for Mulder after he awakened from his 
coma. The nurses were constantly pushing in needles and 
giving him baths and talking over him. Rarely did they ever 
talk to him but mostly about him and his medical needs. He 
needed an enema, a bath, a clean bed, to be turned, to be 
medicated, to be taken to xray, to be brought back from xray, 
to be given mouth care or to be given a new line due to date 
and time expirations. And then there were the physical 
therapists and the speech therapists. They would come in and 
be totally disappointed that their invalid patient was 
unable to function up to their expectations, or at least in 
his mind that is what he thought. They would not come out 
and say it but after being unable to speak one develops a 
sense of staring and their facial expressions told him that 
they were getting frustrated at his incapacity to perform. 
He wanted to go back to his coma state. Being paralyzed and 
alert sucked big time.

After several days had passed the vent was removed and the 
paralysis had persisted, Mulder started to get depressed. 
The nurse's had started getting him up twice daily in a 
bedside chair with the help of a hoyer lift. Some days he was so 
moody that he would refuse until Dr Harriman or Scully would 
come in and insist that he follow orders. He slept more each 
day and he did not want to perform the stupid tests that 
were part of his daily rituals. The feeding tube was placed 
back into his stomach and he hated the bloating feeling that 
he got from the liquid meal. Unbeknownst to Mulder Dr. 
Harriman had reordered the staff psychologist to evaluate 
Mulder's depression.

Dr Maxwell Moore's Office 0930am

He pulled his newest patient's chart out for the tenth time 
since he had arrived at his office that morning. He had 
scheduled his first visit with Special Agent Fox Mulder at 
10am. He had read about the FBI's star profiler and his 
propensity for the abnormal. He chased flying saucers and 
had encounters with vampires and werewolves, yet he was the 
best at catching the hardened criminal or getting into the 
minds of men who committed crimes against children.

Mulder had also been a victim of a terrible childhood 
trauma. His little sister had been taken from their house 
while she was under his care. He had been catatonic for 
weeks and had been placed under the care of a psychiatrist 
who had treated him and found out that this twelve year old 
boy had been also the victim of physical and mental abuse 
from his father. This had led to the separation of his 
parents and intense therapy treatment until he went away to 
Oxford. There he received a degree as a criminal 
psychologist. He was considered the best of the best even at 
Quantico. He was soon on a ladder straight to the top but he 
had gotten sidetracked and wound up in the basement taking 
on the files that had been closed or considered unsolvable 
by the best of the FBI. He had been hospitalized multiple 
times since being in this unit, called the Xfiles. Some of 
the diagnosis seemed hard to believe or to even conceive but 
licensed physicians documented them as true diagnosis.

He lay the chart down on his desk and rubbed his hands 
through his hair. This man would be a challenge even for the 
best psychiatrist, he thought to himself. He picked up his 
jacket and slipped it on and started for the door, it was 
going to be a definite challenge but he looked forward to 
the task but felt some trepidation about how hte ace 
profiler would feel about him. He opened the door and 
proceeded to his patient's room.

Neurological ICU 0955AM

Scully had been called to the office by A.D.Skinner earlier 
that morning. That left a very irate patient for the nurse's 
to deal with. He was in a definite mood this morning and it 
was definitely not improving. The nurse had set a wash basin 
in front of her irritable patient and she had politely asked 
him to wash his face and that led to him taking his hand and 
pushing the basin onto the floor. Now the environmental 
services was trying to clean up the water and the nurse 
was trying to call the physician for a sedative.

Dr Moore approached the room and knocked on the door. When 
he entered the room was finally mopped and dry. " Good 
Morning Mr. Mulder. My name is Dr. Moore, I am the staff 
psychologist. Dr Harriman has referred you to my services.

Mulder closed his eyes, obviously dismissing the 
psychologist. He felt hat he did not need another physician 
telling him that he was depressed or repressing his 
childhood memories. Or that he was suffering from post 
traumatic stress syndrome, that was a given. He was dealing 
with the cards that had been handed him a long time ago and 
he did not need to be given any grief, pity or intensive 
therapy. He just wanted to be left alone to his misery and 
paralysis. Yeah he was feeling sorry for himself but it was 
how he felt and he could not lose that feeling of lying in a 
bed totally helpless. This was his new life, welcome to his 
pity party.

Dr Moore pulled up a chair and sat down," Mulder, I have 
blocked the whole day off just for you, when you are ready 
to pay attention I will talk." He stayed calm as he talked 
to his stubborn patient.

Mulder could ignore well, heck he did it all the time to his 
superiors. He was a pro. He kept his eyes closed and ignored 
the good intentions of his fellow psychologist.

At noon the nurse entered the cubicle and wanted to redress 
and assess Mulder's leg. He ignored her presence too and the
psychologist motioned her out of the room. " Mulder, I am 
not going to leave until you and I communicate. Your partner 
and friends are concerned."

Mulder nearly laughed at that statement. How does one that 
is aphasic talk to anyone? Hell what did he think he was a 
miracle worker?" He continued to keep his eyes closed and 
his attention away from man sitting at his side.

He heard the man humming and it was getting to the point of 
irritating. He wanted to stand and walk over to whack the 
man in the chair but he could not move without the 
assistance of the nurses or the hoyer life lift. Hell he 
couldn'tt do anything on his own. He was drooling his thickened 
fluids and his spit. He could not even use the bathroom 
without someone wiping his ass.

" Mulder, I am still here. Your nurses want to take care of 
your needs. If you allow me just to talk for a few minutes I 
will give you a break today." He brought his chair closer 
to his stubborn patient and leaned over the siderail. He 
wanted to give his patient some assurance that he was here 
to help; not to psychoanalyze him. " Mulder, I know that this 
is difficult. I know that you are mad at the situation and 
that you are feeling a lot of emotions but if you don't at 
least try to let some of this anger out then you know as 
well as I do that this will make your recovery longer. 
You're a psychologist, you know this can't be good for you 
Mr. Mulder."

He was tired and he was definitely tired of hearing the 
chatter coming from the psychologist. He decided that sleep 
was needed. Hadn't they been fussing at him to rest and to 
take it easy. Damned if he did and damned if he didn't.


The nurse finally reentered and stared at the psychologist. 
" We need to get him up in his chair. He needs his bath and 
his dressing changed." Her voice was firm and authoritative. 
She had experienced enough of the standoff.

Another nurse and an assistant entered, together they placed 
their quiet patient onto the lift and placed him into the 
chair. Dr. Moore moved to the corner of the room and 
observed his patient. Mulder never opened his eyes and never 
made a motion to assist the nurse.

Mulder noticed that the room had become quiet again and he 
thought that he had finally been left alone but then a loud 
noise startled him and his eyes flew open. Dr Moore was 
sitting across from him looking quiet smug at his trick's 
success. He rolled his eyes and closed them again.

Dr Moore looked at his watch and knew that his patient would 
win the battle today. Hopefully his patient would respond to 
him soon. He gathered his things and left leaving orders at 
the desk.

Mulder heard the movement of the physician leaving. He had 
been unable to see Scully all day and he felt that was part 
of Dr Moore's plan. Probably another one of his tricks but 
it may be one that backfired. He would not fight to improve 
if he was deprived the only support that he knew. He would 
not fight without his partner around. What did he have to 
gain by getting better if he didn't a have Scully.

The nurse reentered his room and brought a syringe. " Hey 
are you ready to go back to bed?" she asked.

He looked up at his nurse and nodded then he spotted the 
syringe. His eyes grew wide and he looked like a small child 
in time out.

She recognized his apprehension about the syringe and shook 
her head, " Sorry Mulder. Dr Moore wants to get you started 
on an antidepressant tonight.  He feels that you are getting 
depressed and withdrawn. He wants to start you on intramuscular 

Mulder shook his head and pushed the nurse gently away with 
his good hand.

She knew she was in for a fight with her patient. She also 
knew that Dr. Moore was correct. Mulder's behavior was proof 
of his descent into a deep,dark depression. She also knew that 
her patient had recognized the symptoms but was unable to 
assess himself. She called for assistance and when they 
arrived she had them place him back into the bed and to hold 
him over for the injection. He was angry and when the needle 
hit the muscle it hurt due to the tightening of the muscle. 
When they repositioned him he hit the siderail with his arm 
and moaned loudly. He needed some time alone. He was too 
angry to reason with and she knew that he was just 
responding out of frustration. She checked his IV's and left 
to go to chart on her patient's response.

He thought he would see Scully but she never came and he was 
getting more upset as the day progressed. It was late and he 
just wanted to sleep. He hit the nurse's call light and 
within a few minutes another nurse entered his cubicle.

" Hey I thought you were sleeping? Dr Moore does not want 
you to have any more sleeping pills until you level on the 
antidepressant is therapeutic."

He remained quiet and ignored the nurse for the rest of her 
visit. She would be begging the doctor for a sedative for 
her patient before the night was over.

He had hit the call light every fifteen minutes for the past 
three hours and when his nurse reentered the cubicle she was 
smiling. That should have been the first clue that he was in 

" Mulder, maybe the reason that you cannot sleep is hat you 
are constipated. I'm going to give you an enema and see if 
you feel better." The smile on her face showed that she was 
enacting some type of revenge.

After she padded the bed she affixed the enema bag above his 
head. She was almost ready to insert the tubing when she 
heard a sob coming from her patient. She walked around the 
bed and looked down at her very sad patient. He was crying 
loudly now and the sobs were causing him hiccups." Hey. I'm 
sorry. You okay?"

He shook his head and continued to cry. He wanted to ask for 
Scully but he couldn't, he was unable to communicate 
anything.He was a man, he shouldn't be crying. What the Hell was 
wrong with him.

"It's okay." The nurse cooed, this is normal for stroke patients. 
You are dealing with so much right now and it seems overwhelming. 
It will get better, I promise." Her hand stroking his head and 
caressing his hand.

Mulder continued to cry for an hour and the nurse decided 
that her patient needed to rest. He was emotionally drained. 
She paged Dr. Harriman and he lifted the order for no 
sedative and ordered Valium five milligrams IV. After the 
injection into Mulder's IV port she took down the enema bag 
and positioned Mulder so he could sleep. She reached down to 
push away his sweat and tear soaked hair when he whispered, 

She was stunned and was unable to speak for a few seconds. 
Her patient had just uttered his first word since his 
stroke. She could barely contain her excitement but she did 
not want to stimulate him too much. The medicine was 
beginning to work and he was almost asleep. She would tell 
Dr. Harriman first thing in the morning." Go to sleep 
Mulder. You are fine."

He nodded and closed his swollen, red rimmed eyes and 
within a few minutes he was sleeping.


The next morning she met Dr. Harriman in the hallway and 
gave him the incredible news that Mulder had spoken for the 
first time since his stroke. She had been unable to contact 
his partner. She had left a message on her machine to call 
but did not get a return.

They entered Mulder's room together. Dr. Harriman walked 
over and raised his gown and placed the stethoscope on his 
chest. Mulder's eyes flew open, "Tha col. Sto." His voice 
was hoarse from the crying bout the night before.

Dr Harriman smiled down at his patient. "Mulder you are 
always amazing me with your healing ability." He was beaming 
for his patient's accomplishment.

Dr Moore stood at the door and heard Mulder speak. He was 
glad for his improvement but knew that he had a long road to 
travel both physically and mentally.


Scully walked passed the no visitors sign that Dr. Moore had 
posted and into her partner's room. She placed her things 
into the chair and noticed that Mulder was sitting up in 
bed. " Good morning G Man. How are you feeling this 

He looked up and smiled a toothy grin from the right corner 
of his mouth. He concentrated on trying to make the correct 
annunciation " Mornin Scuwy."

Her eyes filled with tears and she reached over his side 
rails to hug him. She at that point took in his ragged 
appearance. His eyes were swollen and red. His cheeks were 
flushed and he seemed so sad. " Are you okay Mulder?"

He nodded and allowed the hug to linger for a little while. 
When she pulled back the tears flowed from his eyes, " Wher 
yoo at? I miss yoo." His voice was so sad and hoarse.

She did not want to lie to her partner but to tell him the 
truth could jeopardize his health even more.

Part Seven

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