Saturday, July 1
Chase lies back on the couch, glancing at his phone every five minutes. All he could do was hope for a ding and the fact that Sarina was looking for him to talk over what had happened.
He thought about making the first move to contact her first, but knew how that’d go. If she still believed her brother was innocent, that’d just push the pair of them further apart. If she had figured that her brother was guilty, she was probably coming to terms with it and he didn’t want to get in the midst of that. He knew she’d reach out when she was ready, as she had done that in the past for him. Again, it was motto and he had gotten used to it by now.
He thought about getting up and leaving, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. He knew the minute he got in the plane and flew home, she would probably text him in want to meet up. Hence why he continued to convince himself to wait a little longer. Besides, it wasn’t like he had any big appointment to get to right away.
He brings up another game on his phone, letting himself get lost in it. Though as he does, he feels the odd feeling as if his body is warming up more than normal. A little confused, he feels his head and realizes a fever has set in.
“Great…” he says to himself. He knew the lack of sleep from the night before, combined with lack of eating today due to the Sarina situation and pushing himself hard throughout the event had pushed his body to his limits. If he had to bet, he was probably coming down with something.
Knowing that he had to take care of himself, he shut off the game and set his phone on the small table in the middle of the lounge. He lays his head back, allowing his eyes to drift close, knowing that he should at least take advantage of the quiet waiting time to grab a nap. Perhaps he woke up later on, everything would be clearer.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, he got the sudden urge to go to the bathroom. Jumping up as quickly as he could, he runs outta the trailer into the closest porta-potty, instantly feeling relief as it seems everything was flying out of him. Yep, he had certainly pushed himself too far now. He knew that lots of sleep over the next couple of days, combined with a healthy regimen of good food would be necessary as he wasn’t about to let himself get sick mid-season.
Coming out of the porta-potty, he makes his way back into the lounge and lays back down. He thought about leaving, but the pondering thought of a possible text message, combined with the fact that he didn’t want to fly and have to go again resulted in a return to the trailer. Based on the guys outside, he knew he still had a couple hours to spare before they were leaving.
As he gets comfortable on the couch, he feels a severe pain in his stomach, causing both hands to immediately go there as he lets out a groan. He almost thought he had to go to the bathroom again, but knew that wasn’t the case.
“Oh man….” was all he could let out as he felt the pain through him. Forget trying to avoid getting sick as he could feel that he had already gotten himself sick. Given the pains in his stomach, he knew his body was either cramping up or set to unload the other way. Perhaps flying home with the team or his parents would be a better option when he decided to leave.
As he tries to relax himself, he feels his leg move suddenly, causing confusion to surface through him.
“Muscles, please…” He pleads, believing it was a combination of pushing himself too hard, combined with lack of nutrition and sleep. Perhaps there was some dehydration mixed in based on the fact he had drank the whole bottle of juice.
Reaching for his phone, he thought about contacting his parents, Alan, or Greg Morin to discuss how he was feeling. He knew that his parents and Alan would want him to get checked out, but based on the stomach cramps, that may be a good idea. He knew calling Greg would result in suggestions as to how to feel better, considering the guy was team genius.
As the pain continued to increase his stomach, he felt it extend to his chest as he tried to sit up, attempting to take deep breaths.
“Holy crap!” He lets out as he flops back on the couch, hands finding their way back to his stomach with the pain making it seem as though his stomach was on fire. He closes his eyes, focusing on deep breathes, knowing that the phone call was probably in the best interest.
“Chase?” He hears, not even glancing up as the door to the lounge opens. Alan sees the man sitting there, arms wrapped around his stomach, eyes squinting as he immediately rushes forward. “Chase, are you alright?” Chase shakes his head no.
“Fever….diarrhea….stomach cramps….chest pain…” He then twitches once again as Alan wraps both arms around the young man. Chase then looks as though he’s set to vomit so Alan grabs the garbage can, placing it between his legs as he watches him kneel over, emptying whatever was left in his stomach in the pail. “Oh man…”
“Guys!!!!” Alan had his theories on Chase – thinking he could be sick, combination of everything, but also knew the one thing that was stuck in his mind. “Guys!!” The lounge door opens once again as four of the crew members stand there, facing the boss, eyes then going in shock as they look at their driver. “One of you go get Greg out of Kahne’s hauler, please. Someone else go to the infield care center. Hurry!” The crew members glance at each other, pointing in directions as they take off in groups of two. “Chase, it’s going to be okay….”
“Oh my gosh!” Chase lets out as he feels the pain in his stomach growing even more, with the chest pain even increasing just a touch. It was while holding him that Alan noticed the bottle on the table.
“Your just drank that, right?” Chase shakes his head yes. “Chase, where did it come from?”
“My motorcoach. I brought it over on Fri….Oh shit!” Alan immediately felt his suspicions coming true as he kept his arms around Chase, holding him, letting him throw up once again.
“You’re going to be okay….” The lounge door opens once again as Travis Gordon leads Greg Morin into the lounge. Greg takes one look at Chase, before going over and kneeling before him. “Pretty sure he’s been poisoned, thanks to that..” Greg immediately gripped Chase’s wrist with his hand, eyes focused on the young man before him.
“What’s bugging you, Chase?” Greg asks in the most sympathetic voice he could muster. Chase then closes his eyes, biting his tongue as he feels the pain increase. “Chase?” Greg then glances at Alan. “Talk to me…”
“He says he has a fever,” Alan starts as Greg feels his forehead with his free hand, confirming the theory. “He ran off to the bathroom once already quickly and he’s thrown up twice. You can add stomach cramps really bad, he’s shook in my arms at least twice, and he says he’s got chest pain.” Greg knew they could handle the list for the most part till help got there, having heard that two other guys had headed off the care center. However, the last concerning piece bugged him.
“Chase, is your chest really sore?” Chase shakes his head yes as he wraps his arms around his stomach tighter. “Does it hurt to breathe?” Chase shakes his head yes as Greg tightens his grip on Chase’s wrist a little. “Okay, buddy. I need to focus. I need you to stay with me. I need to focus on taking deep breathes and trying to relax as much as possible. We’ve got help on the way…”
“Breathe, Chase…” Alan rubs his back as Chase tries to focus on their words, though feels blinded by the pain. “Breathe buddy….”
“Focus on those deep breathes, please.” Greg then counts the pulse that he feels on the wrist, making a mental note as he knew it was lower than normal, based on knowing Chase’s levels from training. “Stay focused on us. I know it hurts, but you’re going to be okay….”
Greg and Alan remained in their positions, continuing to coach Chase, till they heard the door open once again, with Chad Avrit leading two of the infield medical officials in.
Greg quickly briefs them on the list of symptoms and what he had realized as Alan backs away, giving them their space with him. It wasn’t long before they had him on a stretcher and out of the lounge, as Alan leans back against the wall, wiping his hands down his face with a deep breath.
“Greg, is he going to be okay?” Alan questions as Greg goes to leave. Greg looks at the crew chief and shakes his head yes.
“If you catch these things early enough, he’ll be fine,” Greg answers. “Call Cindy and Bill. Tell them to go over. it’s going to be a long night, probably, but he will be okay.” Alan shakes his head accepting as he watches the pit crew coach leave.
“Do you want me to call Bill?” Chad Avrit questions and Alan shakes his head no. “Okay. We’re almost done loading up and then we’re going to head over. Is that okay?” Alan shakes his head yes, knowing the team would want to be there for their driver.
“Wait for us and you can come with one of us,” Travis adds as he goes to follow Chad out. “You’re in no shape to go over by yourself right now.” Alan knew Travis was right as he immediately accepted the offer.
Once the boys were back outside finishing up their duties, he picks up Chase’s phone from the table and places it in his pocket as he knew he’d want it later. He then takes his own phone, taking a deep breath, as he begins the necessary phone call to Bill, followed by Rick.