Thursday, January 12, 2012

Back to London - Breathless

All our luggage was in the lobby of Ginnie's Guesthouse.  Only four of us for the car ride back to London because my son was on his way to visit The University of York via train.  My son-in-law and I loaded the car with my son-in-law bringing out the last bag.  I squeezed into the back seat, next to the bags.  My wife had the middle section of seats to herself with her right leg and her pink cast spread out over the seats next to her.  My son-in-law drove with my daughter next to him.  We were off.  

Our route was via the A46 around Lincoln to the A1 down to London with a piece on the A16 fitting in there somewhere.  The countryside along the road reminded me of Lancaster County here in Pennsylvania; green rolling hills with plenty of farms.

Somewhere near Stamford we stopped at an OK Diner.  The diner looked like an American diner from the exterior with its stainless steel and neon OPEN sign.  The OK sign reminded me of the old OK used car signs of Chevrolet dealers. 

The interior wasn't quite like a typical American diner.  I didn't see any counter.  The center of the ceiling was much to high.  It reminded more of a TGIFs.  The decor was trying a bit hard for '50s US nostalgia.

We all ordered off the menu.  The wait was a bit long.  They seemed to be short on staff.  The food was good at a reasonable price, for London.  All that was missing for an authentic US diner was American dialects and diner language being yelled to the cook, like:"One hockey puck, run it through the garden, fries in the alley, cheese'um and put wings on that." 

Once back on the road again, it didn't seem long before we were back at the apartment in Hackney Wick.  We unloaded all the bags outside the door to the apartment building.  My son-in-law was in a hurry to return the car before another day's rent was added to the total.  The three of us were left to drag everything upstairs to the apartment.  The pink cast on my wife's foot handicapped her, so it was really just my daughter and I to lug the bags.
Outside the door
Once everything was in the apartment, I brought our bags into the bedroom we were using.  At that point I realized my CPAP bag was missing.  I returned outside to where we unloaded the car to see if it was there.  It wasn't outside.  I went back upstairs and searched the whole apartment.  I couldn't find it.  My daughter called her husband to look in the car before he turned it in at the rental office.  It wasn't in the car, either.

I have been using the CPAP for near ten years now.  Before I was tested for sleep apnea, my blood pressure was chronically and dangerously high.  My doctor was unable to lower my blood pressure and my dosage of medications was at their limits.  After wearing the CPAP for a few months, my blood pressure began to drop.  Today, if I fell asleep without the CPAP I usually awaken after a very short period with my heart racing and pounding.  The kind of pounding I can see.  There is no way I can sleep uninterrupted and healthily without the CPAP.
Google Maps

My last guess was I left it at Ginnies Guesthouse, two hours away by car.  I called Ginnies.  It was there in Cleethorpes.  I told Francis, the owner, I would be up that very night to collect it.  I called my son-in-law's parents appraised them of my situation and requested I spend the night with them.  Everything was settled.  I would travel back to Grimsby by train that night.  My son's-in-law parent's would collect me at the Grimsby Town train station.  We would then go to pick up the CPAP at Ginnies.  I would sleep at my son's-in-law parents' house and return to London in the morning on the train.

I checked to be sure I had my credit card and off I was to King's Cross Station.

©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved

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