Return to Grimsby - Darthly I Slept

I was on my way back to Grimsby via train just five hours after leaving Cleethorpes via car.  I somehow left behind my CPAP at Ginnies Guesthouse and I needed it to sleep through the night.  I took the Overground from Hackney Wick station to Highbury & Islington station, change to the Victoria Underground Line to King's Cross / St. Pancras station, then up to King's Cross railway station for the train to Leeds, changing in Doncaster and then onto Grimsby Town station.


This was my first time to traverse the Underground/Overground system alone.  Without a map, I might say.  All I had were the printed maps on the inside walls of the trains.  In a short time and without a hitch, I arrived at King's Cross railway station, made my way through some construction at the station to the ticket counter and bought the least expensive return ticket.  


It was not like I was in a country where a foreign language was spoken.  For the most part we were speaking the same language, English.  Well my English and their English sounded different, but they were close.  When I asked questions there seemed to be some time lapse before an answer was delivered.  Maybe those queried didn't understand me.  Maybe they couldn't believe I was so dumb to be asking such a question and had to take a second to qualify my level of seriousness before being played a fool.  Or maybe their civil servant attitude was like those here in the US and they need to keep up an appearance of disdain.  For whatever reason, it took sometime for me to ascertain which train to take and at which station I would change trains for Grimsby.  Once I had my answers, I needed to find the track number for my departing train.

King's Cross Station Departure Board

King's Cross station was busy.  It was Sunday evening, the school break was over and students were headed back to school.  I found the departure board that showed the trains, their platforms and if they were running on time.  I wanted to get to Grimsby as soon as possible, so I chose to take the next train out, the 20:35 to Leeds.  There was no track number on the board when I first joined the crowd watching the departure board, ten minutes before the train departed.


As I stood in the crowd, I just knew they all were waiting for the same track number reveal, I decided I needed to get my photojournalist face on.  I had my camera and the overnight bag that held the flash equipment I had forgotten the first time I was on my way to Grimsby.  I pulled the camera from its bag.  I captured the photograph above of he departure board.  I knew I would be writing about that moment and a picture was needed for the post.  The track number was announced and I needed to get on the train to Leeds.  I immediately put away my camera along with my photojournalist face.  

I was now alone.  Just me, myself and I.  My movements were not hampered by any dependents.  On the platform, I moved like a cat, quietly, quickly, sure-footedly sidestepping platform hogs, passing slow moving couples and backpack carrying chattering students.  I took long strides at a quick pace.  I passed the last car which was the first car on the tracks for first class passengers.  Then past the dinning car and the next car and so on until I became afraid the train might leave without me.  I jumped onto the second car from the front of the train.  The signs on the windows declared it a quiet car.  Quite car?  I haven't been on a train since I went to the New York World's Fair in 1965.  I don't remember quite cars back then.  No, I am wrong.  I was on a steam locomotive powered train in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania for an eight mile round trip, maybe, twenty-five years ago.  There was no quite car on that trip, either.  The whistle and chugging made sure of that.  I looked around and decided that with most people reading, wearing headphones or ear buds, I should just sit back and relax.  I quietly enjoyed the reflection of the interior of the car in the window glass with its pitch black countryside backdrop interrupted by piercing lights of train stations and mall parking lots.


Being near the front of the train, it wasn't long before a train employee made her way to our car.  She was pushing a stainless steel cart like those flight attendants pushed in the aisles of airplanes.  This train attendant was hawking food.  Snacks, drinks, sandwiches.  I declined when she came along side and offered her wares.  I was kind of surprised by her appearance and at the start of the trip, wasn't ready to eat.


As the hours wore on, I heard a rumbling sound coming from my stomach.  I hadn't eaten since we stopped at the OK Diner north of Stamford on the A1.  I wasn't sure how many cars the food cart attendant had traversed but, now I was hungry.  I thought I might visit the dinning car.  I put that thought out of my head.  I didn't feel like collecting my belongings and bumping my way back three or four cars to a cellophane wrapped sandwich with one piece of meat and one piece of cheese between two pieces of bread at an inflated price.  So I just kept seated and took in the sights and sounds of the quiet car.


The car wasn't totally quiet.  There were two women talking behind me somewhere in the car.  Talking loudly enough that I knew one husband's name and that the other loved Maggie Smith in Downton Abbey.  I thought about leaving my seat and asking the women to lower their voices.  Then I visualized a fat, sixty year old, Yank bouncing off the seats on my way towards the sound of their voices.  I bruise easily and at my age, bones take a long time to heal, if they heal at all.  I wiped the vision out of my head.  I just listened to their inane conversation and waited for the announcement, "Doncaster, next stop."


At 22:00. I disembarked the Leeds train onto the Doncaster platform.  I thought I made a mistake telling Francis at Ginnies that I would be around to collect my CPAP once I arrived in Grimsby Town.  By the time I got to Ginnies it would be near mid-night.  I needed my machine to breath.  I needed it tonight.  I began to feel badly about my late arrival.

The train to Grimsby was more of a commuter train than the Leeds train.  It looked more like the Overground cars, fitted with side facing seats as well as seats facing forwards and rearwards.  This train moved slower.  The stations were closer.  The cars were noisier.  I was feeling tired.

Source:http://www.carling.com/

The train arrived at a well lit Grimsby Town station.  Awaiting was my son's-in-law father.  I was comforted to find he had visited Ginnies soon after I called and collected my CPAP.  I was relieved I wouldn't be waking up the guests at Ginnies or keeping Francis awake past his bedtime.  Once at the house my son's-in-law father made me a sandwich which I washed down with a Carling beer.  I was shown to the guest bedroom where my son had slept the two nights before.  I plugged in the CPAP and I was asleep within a few minutes, breathing effortlessly, sounding like Darth Vader.




©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved

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

Packing Luggage for London

The middle bag above was the size of my stowaway bag

I put my wife and son on a plane to London Wednesday night before my flight on Sunday Oct. 23.  I began to gather the items I needed to pack my bags for London as soon as I returned home from the airport.

One of my carry-ons was like this bag which contained my CPAP

One of my carry-ons was this shape and had a retractable handle and wheels 

        As I wrote earlier, my wife tripped and hurt her foot the day after they landed.  My son emailed with additional items to add to my bags.  The items included several pairs of footwear and dried mangos, blueberries and two pounds of cashews from Costco.  My daughter, in London, also requested I bring a quantity pack of cucumber mellon scented Dove deodorant from Costco, a pumpkin carving kit

Walmart

Walmart

and an aerosol can of Pure Citrus Orange Air Freshener from Walmart and two bags of fresh cranberries from a supermarket.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

The aerosol can, deodorant and pumpkin carving kit went into my stowed luggage not to be misconstrued as bomb making materials or weapons with which to take over the aircraft.  The rest would fit into my carry-on.

There were some items that were mandatory in my carry-on luggage.  
They were:


 • my medications (heart, hypertension, reflux, low dose aspirin)

• my CPAP machine  
  (continuous positive airway pressure for sleep apnea), face mask 
  and tubing (my breathing sounds like Darth Vader)

• my camera for photographing the wedding couple before and   
  during the reception
• strobe

• sealed gel cell battery for strobe
• strobe attachment bar
• strobe light modifier

• strobe wall voltage adapter
• mobile phone wall voltage adapter


If you know anyone with obstructive sleep apnea, you know the importance of a CPAP machine in getting that person a good night's sleep.  When I underwent sleep testing, I was told I awakened three hundred times throughout the night and entered REM within the first ten minutes of sleep.  That is not good for the heart (which is why I had most of the meds) nor for a restful sleep.  No wonder I used to fall asleep at the drop of a hat.  All I needed to do was sit still in one place and in no time, I was asleep.  I was constantly embarrassing my wife and family.  "Dad's asleep, again", would be heard at every gathering we attended.  Or my fellow workers would snicker or outright laugh at me during meetings.  My falling asleep was terribly troubling when I drove a car.  As you might well imagine.  This machine is a necessity and that is why it was in my carry-on.


I now needed to make room in my carry-on for three pairs of footwear, a bag each of dried blueberries and mangos, two pounds of cashews and two bags of cranberries.


I began to wonder what kind of questioning I would go through with security at the airport.  There was the CPAP, face mask and hoses plus the battery and strobe and all the electronic items and now food and three pairs of footwear in my carry-on.  What red flags would that throw up?  I was soon to find out.


©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved