Individual Summary: The link with Bob during the 2017 series of 'I'm a Celebrity' was meant to be played as a joke, a parody of what had happened before the trial. But when the medic notices that something's actually wrong, can he make things better in time for the next link?
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It was meant to just be a joke, making light of the fact of the first time this had ever happened in the show's fifteen year history. Because it had never happened before: Medic Bob had never had to rule a celebrity out of the trial before that trial had even started.
At least - like Becky's participation in the trial - that had been the plan.....
And it would likely have gone that way if Dec hadn't been feeling like death warmed over and then killed again.
He'd spent the night battling what he thought was a 'mini-migraine' - not quite as severe as a full-blown migraine, but still annoyingly painful - and had barely gotten an hour's sleep. On top of that, he was starting to feel slightly overheated under his jacket, he felt dizzy and nauseous, and absolutely worn out.
Everyone who saw him thought that it was the pale jungle light beaming sluggishly through the thick clouds in the heavily overcast sky above that was making him look washed out and ill. Not even Ant suspected anything - not that he said to Dec, anyway.
In fact, the only person who harboured any kind of suspicion was Bob himself.
But nothing seemed confirmed until it came time to actually do the link itself.
Everything seemed normal, until Bob stepped in to pretend to take Dec's temperature by feeling his cheek.
He had been expecting it to be cool - being that Dec tended to run a bit cooler than Ant, and it was a cool morning today - but instead, he was surprised, and more than a little concerned, to find the skin actually rather warm.
Stowing his suspicion, he continued onto the next part of the script - feeling his pulse. There too, there was something a little concerning.
Bob had taken both boys' pulses in the past - for various reasons - and he'd always found Dec's pulse rather easily, especially in his wrist. Today though, it was a bit harder to find, and he had to shift the position of his fingers ever so slightly to find the beat under the skin. Even then, his pulse felt weak and it seemed to be almost racing.
"I'm sorry Dec, I've got to rule you out of today's link" Bob recited, although he was thinking in his mind 'And I'm going to give you one serious check-over after this link is done.....'
"Th-the...the link?"
"Yeah, sorry" he apologised, following the script he'd been given earlier, although he was close to pulling the plug and ruling Dec out of the show for real.
Dec must have caught something in his face, because his eyes flashed briefly with a hint of stubbornness, and Bob mentally sighed as he knew that there would be no stopping the younger man from continuing the show.
And so the link continued, with Dec going off and sitting back and pretending to breathe in the oxygen through the mask that had been conveniently placed there, while Ant pretended to stumble through the rest of the link until Bob walked back in and joined him.
The medic forced a smile onto his face as he and Ant joked about, listening out for any audible clues behind them.
But - being the professional he was - Dec pushed through, clambering up onto the chair and popping up between Ant and Bob's shoulders with a squeak at the jokey prospect of being replaced by the medic.
"And cut! Great job guys!" Chris called out, grinning from where he sat behind the monitors.
Ant and Bob shared a quick grin, before they turned around to face Dec.
Immediately, they both twigged that something wasn't quite right with the smaller man. At first, Bob assumed that it was the fear of being so high up (the ground from over the railing was a good ten metres down, at least) that was making Dec appear so pale. But then he quickly noticed the quivering in his eyes, the shaking of his legs, and the way he seemed to sway on his feet.
Ant had also quickly picked up on this, and he frowned as his eyes looked his best mate up and down. "Declan? You alright son?"
Fuzzy hazel eyes blinked back at them, but both Ant and Bob got the distinct impression that he wasn't really seeing them, instead looking right through them.
It took a moment, but the medic recognised the familiar gaze first.
"Hang on, son, let's get you down on the ground hey?" he stepped forward to help Dec off the chair, but it was too late as his eyes rolled back in his head and he started to collapse.
Leaping forward, Bob caught him in his arms with a grunt, knees threatening to buckle under the dead weight as he lifted him off the chair and gently laid his body onto the floor of the tree-house.
"Ant, bring that chair over here please" he instructed, gesturing to the chair beside him.
Wordlessly - and looking rather panicky and concerned - Ant obeyed, and he positioned the chair in such a way so that Bob could raise Dec's legs up and rest his feet on the seat.
Gaze returning to his patient, the medic was concerned to see that he still appeared to be out cold - although he got a quick explanation (and a confirmation of his earlier suspicions) when he put the back of his hand against Dec's forehead.
No surprise, it was burning.
In response to his touch, Dec finally started to stir under his hand, eyelids flickering as he slowly returned to consciousness.
"Dec? Can you hear me?" Bob asked, keeping his voice clear and calm.
"Nrugh" was the groaning response he got, a tiny frown appearing on Dec's pale face.
Rubbing his sternum, Bob tried again. "Come on, open your eyes for me" he ordered, easing off the pressure in his fist as Dec reached up to bat away his hand.
"D'n't" he mumbled thickly, and Bob had to suppress a smile at the grumpy whine.
"Come on" he coaxed gently, "open up kiddo."
Finally, the hazel eyes crawled open, and Bob couldn't help but smile in relief.
"Welcome back" he greeted, eyes twinkling as they met Dec's.
Dec just groaned in response, lifting a weak hand to rub at his stomach.
"Feel sick?" Bob guessed, getting a tiny nod as an answer.
"Easy son, just take some nice deep breaths, okay? You had a pretty nasty faint just then, so you're going to feel a bit rotten for a few minutes" he soothed, hand switching to rub along Dec's shoulder.
Obeying - mainly because he didn't have enough strength to fight him - Dec took a few slow, deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. After a minute or so, he had to admit that he did feel marginally better - but still totally rotten.
"Feel like you can sit up for us?" Bob asked now, getting another wordless nod. Shifting to grip onto Dec's right arm, he waved for Ant to take a hold of his left arm, and - putting their other hands on his back to support him, he and Ant slowly sat him up.
It was a bit too close for comfort for Dec's nausea though, and he spent another minute breathing very shallowly in an attempt to keep his stomach in line.
Ant rubbed his back comfortingly.
"Why didn't you tell us you were sick, you idiot?" he scolded, though without any real heat - more of a worried concern.
"Can't miss the show" Dec stubbornly pointed out, and - while Ant and Bob hated to admit it - he was actually right. The boys had never called in sick to miss a show in all their years of presenting it, even when they felt worse than Dec clearly did right now: they'd always forced themselves to soldier on through the shoot.
"You still should have said something - I could have given you something that would have kept you from feeling this bad" Bob now joined in on the concerned scolding, hand squeezing Dec's shoulder tenderly.
Flushing - either with embarrassment or with the rising fever, Bob couldn't tell - Dec mumbled an apology before he looked up at the medic with glittering, miserable eyes.
Chuckling, Bob gestured for Steve to bring his kit over, and he took out the drug kit.
"Unfortunately, I can only give you paracetamol at the moment, but that should help settle your stomach a bit as well" Bob explained, holding out the two pills and a bottle of water to his patient.
Taking them with a shaking hand, Dec swallowed the pills and took a few brave sips of water to wash them down.
Ant and Bob continued to sit quietly with him for a few more minutes, until Bob suggested that they try standing up. Resuming their positions at Dec's sides, they slowly helped him to his feet, letting him stand still for a moment to get his bearings. After about thirty seconds, Dec gave a shaky nod and they both stood back slightly - though still close enough if they needed to catch him again.
"You still feeling okay?" Ant asked his friend, putting a hand back on his shoulder.
Swallowing hard, Dec nodded at him, and both Ant and Bob had to admit that he was looking a bit better than before.
Bob stepped back in beside them now, and both boys glanced up at him.
"I'd still like you to take it really easy for the rest of the show, and we'll see how you're feeling when the trial rolls around - hopefully this will be something we can manage nice and easily with paracetamol, rest and fluids" he suggested, getting two agreeing nods as an answer.
As more time passed, Dec continued to feel about the same - not 100%, but not as bad as he had earlier. Bob and Ant both relaxed marginally, though they kept a very close eye on him for the rest of the live show, and for the duration of their interview on Extra Camp.
Finally, the time came for the break in between the live show and the trial. Just as well, because everyone could clearly see how much Dec was starting to weaken now, and Bob discretely pulled the boys aside and brought them back to the clinic - taking them through to his own living area.
It was a space barely larger than the interior of a small caravan, but it had a comfortable couch and a fully-serviceable kitchenette - which Bob walked straight over to and filled a glass of cool water, bringing it back and setting it on the coffee table in front of the couch.
He smiled when he rounded the back of the couch and saw that Ant had already settled his ill friend on the cushions, and was rubbing his arm in an attempt to get him to fall asleep.
Bob reached around into a cupboard and pulled out a thick throw, spreading it tenderly over his patient and running a soft hand through his hair.
"Get some rest, son" he whispered, in an almost fatherly voice. "We'll look after you."
Tired - but trusting - hazel eyes blinked sleepily at them, before they fluttered closed and - within seconds - Dec was fast asleep, snoring softly into the pillow beneath his head.
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END of this chapter.....
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Next Time.....
Like many Australians, Bob hadn't heard the news of what had happened during that fateful zip-wire challenge on Saturday Night Takeaway. In fact, he finds out rather by accident when Dec starts complaining of a sore neck and Ant immediately begins to panic.......
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