Chapter 1

16th January 2016. The day I died.

My wife had been in hospital for a woman’s operation. For three days I’d been batching, feeling a bit under the weather, I put it down to worrying about her; we both are in our eighties and don’t enjoy great health. January in Oz is our hottest month, the 16th was a stinker 40 degrees centigrade plus.

I drove down to the hospital and fortunately there was a veggie patch right at the front door, we both have blue invalid stickers. The Sale hospital is a small rural facility, even so, my wife was in a ward diagonally opposite the entrance and on the top floor. So, of I went, every step sweating quarts, up the elevator and eventually to her ward. I feel like shit I told her, “let’s get home out of this heat.”

Of course, she had to say good bye to all and sundry, by now I was really sweating, so grabbed her two suit cases, (she was only in for three days but had enough crap for a world tour) and headed off to the elevator, her moaning about being rushed. I repeated “I feel like shit.” On the ground floor I started the great trek back to the car, with her trailing behind. About half way there I thought I should stop for a breather but decided if I stopped, I might not get going again. So, I continued my slog. Reaching the car (Thank God for the veggie patch) I threw the bags in the back seat and went to the driver’s seat and flopped.