From: pdiddy@hotmail.com   
      
   Title:  Serial Mishaps   
   Authors: Mulder's Refugees. This time, Erin Blair and   
   Pattie.   
   Rated: PG-13.   
   Category: Angst, Humor.   
   Spoilers: Every injury he Mulder ever had in the series.   
   Summary: Mulder just can't seem to avoid a series of   
   unfortunate medical problems, and a very high F.B.I. Hospital   
   Insurance bill.   
   Feedback:?   
   Archive:  Mulder's Refuge.   
   Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully Kersh and The X-Flies are   
   property of Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen and Fox Studios.   
   We do not earn money writing fanfic and we do not   
   intend to break copyright laws.   
      
   J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING   
   WASHINGTON, D.C.   
   OFFICE OF ASSISTANT DIRECTOR KERSH   
   10:00 a.m.   
      
      
   Kersh folded his hands and stared Mulder straight in the face.   
   "You have some extensive explaining to do, Agent Mulder." He   
   then addressed Scully with the same shrewd look, " And Agent   
   Scully, your actions are less than commendable, may I add."   
      
   "Yes. Sir, I can't say when exactly this whole mess began, but   
   I can tell you... ASSURE you, we will address the subject before   
   it mushrooms into something we can't undo."   
      
   Mulder was furious.  "Mushrooms' Scully? I don't think this is   
   just a case of anything we, or I, have done becoming that   
   disastrous. With all due respect, Sir, I believe we acted in   
   accordance with the law as well as Bureau policy."   
      
   After attending the orientation with Scully, Mulder had food   
   poisoning after eating a portion of two year old applesauce.   
      
   "It was botulism," Scully explained. "When the orientation was   
   complete, Agent Mulder and I went to a convenience store for a   
   quick snack. I told him not to pick up any item that had dust on it,   
   or a very old expiry date. But instead of listening to me, he   
   selected a two-year-old jar of applesauce and managed to keep me   
   from reading the lid. Five hours after he had eaten it, he was   
   VIOLENTLY ILL," she said loudly, staring Mulder down, "and that's   
   when I took him to the hospital."   
      
   "Still, the hospital bill was enormous," Kersh stated blandly.   
   "Agent Mulder, you manage to take a simple thing like a snack,   
   after an orientation, and have it mushroom into a full-fledged   
   catastrophe!"   
      
   "I... I had no idea... I'm not good with expiry dates, Sir."   
      
   Kersh stood, taking a dominant stance. "Perhaps after another   
   orientation, you'll consider a diner or take-out, Agents. Mulder,   
   no more exorbitant hospital expenses. You may go, Agents."   
      
   When Mulder and Scully were fifteen feet down the hall, Scully   
   snarled, "Everything you seem to do lately mushrooms into something that   
   one day you may not be able to handle. Even in a hospital."   
      
   They continued ion their way down the hallway when she saw him   
   run into a bookcase. "Mulder!"   
      
   "Ow!" he yelled as he held his leg and jumped up and down. "I think it's   
   broken!"   
      
   "I think you fractured it, Mulder. Kersh is going to kill us for   
   your next huge hospital bill."   
      
   Mulder grimaced, still holding his leg. He bit his lip, trying to   
   hold back the tears. "Scully, I never noticed that bookcase before.   
   Someone dumb just left it in the hallway..."   
      
   As the Emergency Room was packed, the wait was excruciatingly   
   long for Mulder. To top it off, he heard a dreaded word several times   
   over the hospital address system.   
      
   "Dr. Foley. Dr. Eamon Foley to obstetrics." Repeat Ad Nauseum.   
      
   Scully saw that her partner was perturbed. "Mulder, don't put the   
   cart before the horse. I can see you're already thinking they'll   
   catheterize you. They don't use Foleys for a fracture, generally.   
   That is, unless you have to have a general anesthesia and need emergency   
   surgery."   
      
   The agent was well calmed down, when Dr. Thompson examined his left   
   leg. "Well Agent Mulder, I'm afraid I'll have to put you into a full-sized   
   cast. I'd better   
   get the plaster out."   
      
   "Full-sized!?" He had resorted to whining. Scully scowled.   
      
   "Full-sized," the doctor echoed cheerfully."   
      
   "Well, Mulder looks like you've really done it this time!" Scully   
   snickered. "Look on the bright side: maybe Kersh will take pity on   
   you when we have to explain this later on."   
      
   "But before we do that," the doctors face turned serious. " I'd like to get   
   you into surgery right away to re-attach that severed tendon. It was ripped   
   right off of the   
   patella."   
      
   ""General anesthetic?" Mulder whimpered still in abject pain..   
      
   "Yup," the doctor said as he wrote out some details. "Oh, when you   
   wake up, don't worry about the tubing. It's just to empty out your   
   bladder..."   
      
   "With a Foley catheter," Mulder moaned. He'd had it with Foley   
   catheters.   
      
   "Sorry 'bout your luck." Scully patted his hand, looking consolingly   
   into his eyes. "There is a pattern in all this, I think."   
      
      
   Mulder moaned. His leg was itching from the plaster. "Scully, I   
   think I'm allergic..."   
      
   "What?"   
      
   Mulder frowned. His eyes welled with tears. This just hasn't been   
   his week. "I'm allergic to the plaster."   
      
   "Are you sure?"   
      
   Mulder moaned again. "Scullee.... Get the doctor. I'm seriously   
   itching here."   
      
   "OK, Mulder. I will see what I can do."   
      
   Fifteen irritating minutes later, Dr. Thompson was out of the   
   cardiac cubicle and back to Mulder. "What's this about a supposed   
   allergy to plaster?"  Thompson was grinning, daring not to break into   
   a full laugh.   
      
   "It itches like a son-of-a-..."   
      
   "I get the idea, Mr. Mulder. Well, there has never been a history of   
   allergic reaction to plaster casts. It's never been reported or   
   studied. So, I think you may have that syndrome that goes with   
   wearing a cast."   
      
   "Do tell us what that is," Scully said wearily, as if she already knew.   
      
   "Mr. Mulder has the idea that since he can't get under the cast, he   
   won't be able to scratch if he does itch, so by thinking about it   
   itching, he itches."   
      
   Scully nodded in agreement. "I had that myself once."   
      
   "It's imaginary? ME? Imagine it's itching?" Scully, I will admit   
   to having a very active imagination, but I am not imagining this   
   damn irritating feeling under this... this damn prison."   
      
   Thompson thought over Mulder's words. "You see the cast as a type   
   of confinement in more ways than one, I think. Symbolic of not   
   having your world under control?"   
      
   "What are you? A psychiatric resident?"   
      
   "You're psychic, too." Get a good book. Keep your mind off of   
   itching. You should thank me for recommending the local anesthetic.   
   You got out of the operation without a Foley."   
      
   Scully frowned at the doctor's explanation. "I understand that   
   giving him some codeine for the pain would relieve some discomfort. I   
   know him, Doctor, you don't. Mulder doesn't lie when something is   
   bothering him." She paused. "I'm going to be his personal doctor."   
      
   "Have it your way."   
      
   Mulder gave her a bright smile. Finally, she was taking action.   
   "Thanks, Scully."   
      
   "No problem."   
      
   Four days into Scully's stay with Mulder in his own home, there   
   seemed to be something different in the suffering he was going   
   through.   
      
   "Scully, Could you please give me another couple of pills?"   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)