In the midst of saying goodbye to everyone at school on Thursday I received a phonecall that turned my world upside down. My Grandad was dying and I needed to get to Nottingham soon.
And there I was. Finally standing on the platform in Nottingham. And as you can see, I was pretty pleased with myself. I'm not good at travelling alone and next time, if there ever is a next time, I might just go with the suggestion of putting a sign round my neck in the hope that some kind travellers take pity on me and help me get to my final destination. Either that, or I will just get a direct train with no changes.
He was diagnosed with terminal cancer only 2 weeks previously and the doctors had given him around 6 months. We were all confident that he was going to be around for a little while yet, so much so my parents still went on their holiday to Turkey that had been booked months ago.
But since receiving the diagnosis he seems to have deteriorated so rapidly that he was now pretty much bedridden and needing full time care. So on Thursday when I received the news that he might not last the weekend I had to make the decision to call Mum and Dad and get them home early. I was already very emotional that day from all the goodbyes at school so I knew I wouldn't be able to hold it in when talking to Mum. So thankfully Kelly (my little sister) said that she would do it instead.
I knew I needed to get up to Nottingham but I couldn't drive it myself and the kids had something planned for the next day. I'm ok driving very short distances, to the GPs, to the school, to the shops but any trips longer than 10-15 minutes are out of the question. Even being a passenger in the car for long journeys makes me ill so I try to limit the car journeys I need to make. So that meant I needed to go on the train. Hubby found me a train ticket for the next morning leaving at 5.45am. Kelly had offered to come down and pick me up but by the time she had driven down and then back up it would be quicker for me just to take the train.
I'm ok with travelling on my own around London but because it was a cheap ticket I had to make a change at Loughborough. That worried me because I only had 10 minutes to get off one train and onto another. And when you've got a suitcase and a walking stick, you can't really go that fast.
I really struggled getting around because all the underground stations had a million stairs. I can't believe how many people saw me struggling and just looked at the floor and walked past. Thank goodness some people did help otherwise I just couldn't have managed. Bet you're wondering why I'm struggling with a suitcase for the weekend? Maybe because it has 4 bags of TPN feed in it weighing over 8kg!! Just a little bit more than a change of clothes and my toothbrush.
I negotiated the first challenge of travelling from my local train station to Central London. Actually the first challenge was getting up at 4.30am and convincing my body that it must wake up and not go back to bed after having a wee.
Anyway I had some time to kill before getting the train so I went to get a coffee. I remembered that I had a Starbucks voucher in my purse (a Christmas present from mother) so I not only got a large coffee with caramel syrup, I got the travel mug to put it in. Yeah! Now I looked like a proper London coffee drinker. Only instead of a suit I was in my comfy lounge pants (for travelling of course!) and instead if a briefcase I had the worlds heaviest overnight bag. And a walking stick. Oh yeah, I was blending in!!
But what I saw in Starbucks was really sad. At almost every table sat a homeless person trying to sleep. Everyone of them had a bag (which probably contained all the possessions that they owned in the world) which they hugged against their bodies probably to keep them safe while they dozed. They were mostly young women and as I watched them I noticed how weary they looked. I couldn't help but wonder what life they lead, what had caused them to end up on the streets and why they didn't have anyone that cared enough about them to come and rescue them and take them home with them. As the coffee shop got busier the staff woke them up and ushered them outside. I couldn't work out whether they had been kind and offered them a sanctuary, off the streets,a place that was warm and safe or whether they merely tolerated them and then wanted them out of the shop for fear that they lower the tone. There but for the grace of God goes I is a saying that came to mind.
Back to the train journey. I had my coffee (in the new posh travel mug) and found myself the seat that Hubby had reserved for me- an aisle one, close enough to the loo to make a quick dash and far enough away not to have to tolerate unpleasant smells for 2 hours-perfect. As the train pulled off I had my usual mini panic- this was the right train wasn't it? What if I had gotten ok the wrong one and was now off to Norfolk instead of Nottingham? I'm sure I can't be the only person that has that fear in their belly for the first few minutes of a journey.
It was the right train and I settled back to reading my magazine and amusing myself with people watching and listening. There's nothing better than listening into people's conversations and phone calls to pass the time on a journey. Soon the time came for me to make that dash to the loo and when I got there this is what I found on the loo seat. It cracked me up.
I knew that I had to make a change at Loughborough as it wasn't a direct train to Nottingham. I heard the announcement over the tanoy of "next stop Loughborough" so I grabbed my bag, my suitcase and walking stick and jumped off the train when it stopped. I found the first 'train employee person' and politely asked (but in a passive aggressive I'm disabled demanding kinda way) for him to help me get my suitcase from this platform to the one that I need to be on to get to Nottingham. So me and this slightly overweight, middle aged guy went up and over the steps to get to the platform on the other side of the track. Both of us ended a bit red and sweaty and panting embarrassingly. He set my suitcase down by a bench and I sat down to wait for the train. But when I turned around this is what I found...
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!
I wasn't at Loughborough. I was at Leicester. I was having a meltdown and decided that what's app-ing the school mums that knew about my journey (having been in the park with me the evening before) was the best course of action. They would help me to think of a plan and provide much needed reassurance. (Just incase you're reading this and have no idea what what's app is, it's basically a messaging app on your phone that let's you send messages, pictures and videos to your phone contacts for free. It also lets you set up groups so you can message multiple people simultaneously and everyone in the group can read everyone else's messages)
The what's app group I set up was aptly named 'FUCK, FUCK, FUCK'! and here are some of the responses that I got.
And this was my response. "You've got to laugh haven't you! " Well it was either that, or cry 😂
When I located the rotund, sweaty man from earlier he checked out the trains and luckily, amazingly, there was a train going to nottingham. So I sat and waited and even though I knew it was the right train because the man had told me I still had the butterflies of maybe it's not the right train in my tummy.
Some of my friends didn't have much faith in me either! Here's how the rest of the conversation went (I've had to crop the messages to anonymise the messages)
NB x
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