Medical attention I Max Verstappen

Losing control

After briefly examining my contract with Graham, I navigate my way to the anticipated morning meeting, a pivotal start to my journey here. I feel welcomed by the staff. The camaraderie among the staff is palpable, a subtle yet reassuring signal that we all have a shared ambition. 

The only topic that appears to challenge them is Max, and I can sense that for reasons unbeknownst to me, he remains a raw and sensitive subject. There's an unmistakable tension swirling around him, and every mention of him, a mystery. 

I'm informed that the team has already conducted relevant bloodwork, blood typing, and a few CT scans on past injuries— a good baseline to work from. No one has any life-threatening diseases, but some require management. The realm of Formula 1, gives birth to injuries that stretch the bounds of conventionality. For instance, Sergio Perez has a transverse femur (thigh) fracture that hasn't healed properly since his crash in 2011. The relentless demands of the racecar, coupled with the punishing G-forces, have birthed a unique challenge—a hypertrophic callus that has stubbornly refused to unite fully, causing the bone has only healed on one side. As it stands today, his femur is only one small trauma from snapping in half again. The only known way to fix it is through a re-operation, something no race driver "has time to do".

As I read through the journal, I'm surprised to find that they tried many different treatments but never BMP-7 or BMP-2. While it's challenging to see how these treatments would be effective more than 10 years later, I'll delve into some studies on the subject and consult one of the orthopedic specialists whose number Red Bull provided.

Although I feel competent in the subjects I'm presented with, I can't help but wonder why they didn't choose someone who has already completed their specialization, like an orthopedic surgeon, for example. Or someone with a PhD. There are undoubtedly people out there who are more qualified than me. RedBull and the FIA have multiple doctors with decades of experience who I could consult for the final say, but I can't help but wonder why none of them meet with the drivers. Perhaps they needed someone with a broader scope working on the floor. I'll never know. 

Every team member engaged in physically demanding jobs, such as the pit stop workers and drivers, will undergo a check-up during the week. Notable figures coming in for a check-up today on monday, includes Daniel Ricciardo, Checo, and last for the day, Max Verstappen. 

Meeting Daniel Ricciardo is an absolute riot. His megawatt smile shines just as brightly in person as it does in pictures, and his hair is an even bigger whirlwind of curls in real life. The dude couldn't keep a poker face if his life depended on it. He's a one-man stand-up show. While he's a laugh riot, I am good at suppressing my laughter when I'm working. I'm midway through strapping on the blood pressure cuff when I drop my usual line, "This might feel a bit uncomfortable, but I promise it won't hurt a bit." As I start pumping, his face freezes in horror. He pretends to keel over as if I've just unleashed the most torturous device known to humanity. Daniel flops onto his chair, dramatically gasping for air and pretending to succumb to his injuries. "Oh, great! Now I have one less patient to care for," I deadpan. Daniel Ricciardo falls into hysterics, laughing so hard that he nearly tumbles off his chair for real, actually gasping for air. The joke wasn't half as hilarious as his reaction. Either he's easily amused or he's been inhaling laughing gas between laps. Regardless, he's a pleasant man to work with. 

As he exits my office, he drops a surprising invitation, "You're invited the next time Max and I go out. I promise it'll be a blast." I arch an eyebrow suspiciously, "I'll think about it." "Please do, Dr. Nic," Daniel replies, pressing his hands together in a playful prayer gesture and flashing me his infectious grin as he closes the door.