‘Shit, are you okay?’ Nils turns to Johannes. ‘I think you took the brunt of everyone’s force, to be honest.’
He’s not kidding. I feel like I felt it, too, and I was only in Johannes’s ear.
‘Yeah, he’s just being Mr Overly Cautious. Practically marched me over here.’
I can’t see Johannes, but I’m sure he’s rolling his eyes.
‘Like you weren’t doubled over coughing just a few minutes ago.’ I shake my head. ‘Now get in there.’ If we weren’t at work, I’d have probably smacked his ass, but there are too many people around and the workplace is a professional environment, whether people know about us or not.
‘Shit, man, I’ll leave you to it. See you in the debrief in an hour.’ Nils takes off in the direction of the small room he has in the garage, probably for a nap like Johannes was planning.
‘I’m waiting outside the door, by the way. I know you. You’re too stubborn for your own good and you’ll just ignore my orders otherwise.’
Johannes salutes me and slips into the doctor’s office.
Twenty minutes later, and I’m still standing here, which considering qualifying is just over two hours away, is very unproductive, but I said I’d be waiting, and I just want to be sure he’s all good. But then another five minutes pass with no movement.
‘What’s going on?’ Nathan asks as he rounds the corner to the medical office.
‘Johannes is in there with the doctor. He was wheezing and holding his chest after the crash in FP3.’
‘Okay, well we need to speed this up a little, because we need to go through the data from FP3 and make a decision on tyres, and he needs to get his head in the game. A win today and we’ll be within touching distance of Harper.’
‘And he will, once he’s been checked over by the doctor.’ Iknow we all have different priorities, but I refuse to let Johannes go back out there without being assessed.
‘Could you try to hurry it up? We’ll see you in the meeting room.’
I don’t really want to barge into Johannes’s appointment, but there’s a lot riding on the Saturday of a race weekend. So I knock a couple times and wait a handful of seconds, just in case, and let myself in.
‘So sorry to disturb you,’ I say before the screen the doctor’s showing Johannes catches my eye. ‘What’s going on?’ I ask, stepping further into the room and letting the door close behind.
‘Are you okay with him being in here?’ the doctor asks and Johannes nods from where he’s still laid out on the bed. ‘I was just explaining to Mr Müller that he has two fractured ribs, and he’s lucky they haven’t punctured his lung.’
‘Oh, Jesus, Johannes.’ I get a closer look at the screen and can see where the breaks are. Fuck, that must be so painful.
‘So, what do I need? Some strong pain meds? Do you still wrap broken ribs? I just need something to get through today and tomorrow, and then I have almost three weeks until we go to Qatar.’
He can’t actually be thinking about getting in the car right now? There’s no way, surely? I look to the doctor, hoping for some guidance. While he works for the team, if he advises Johannes to drive and Johannes ends up puncturing a lung or something mid-drive, I’m sure he’d lose his license.
‘I would strongly advise against you getting back in the car today. Any kind of impact could cause serious further damage to your ribs– or even your internal organs, if you aren’t careful. I’d recommend icing your ribs, rest, mixed in with periods of light exercise for a few weeks, then we’ll reassess to make sure you’re healing okay.’
I almost breathe out in relief. It’s not that I don’t want him to race. I don’t want him to end up doing more serious damage.
‘So, what? I can’t race today? In what world is that going to happen?’ Johannes scowls. I could have predicted this reaction a mile off. He’s not the only stubborn driver on the grid. They could have limbs hanging off and they’d still be insistent about getting in their cars and going out there.
‘I can’t ban you from driving, but I have to make you aware of the consequences of such a choice. If you have another crash or even a bump, you could end up out for longer.’
Johannes looks up at me from where he’s struggling to get comfortable in a sitting position. He’s waiting for me to air my opinion. My professional opinion would be that he shouldn’t race, but I don’t know how to be impartial here.
‘I’m not a doctor, so I’m going to have to agree with his thoughts on this, Jo. He is the professional after all.’
‘Nathan will never go for it. He’d let me race with a broken foot if he thought I could still get points,’ Johannes huffs. He tries to sit up way too quickly, which results in him wincing loudly.
‘How are you planning on folding yourself into the cockpit in that kind of pain?’ I’m struggling to watch him right now, never mind sit there for seventy-one laps letting him become more and more uncomfortable.
‘Painkillers would sort it, I’m sure.’ The doctor just shakes his head, and I see Johannes has had enough.
He tries to hop up off the bed, but only ends up almost doubling over in pain, his breath coming out in wheezes as he clutches his abdomen.
