Doing my taxes

So, I was doing my taxes. I hate doing my taxes at the best of times.

I have to go through all my bank statements and check off what is business and what is personal when I come to the start of September.  There in my statement is my wife's last days. There's me buying lunch at the hospital. There's me stopping to get her some food as I took her to the hospice to die. There's the pizza I bought. And the ginger beer. Both were to be her last meal.

Sometimes the hurts are to be found in  unexpected places.  That was one of them. So here I am at 12:30pm. Awake and alone.

My mouth is flaring up again. I'm sick of living in constant pain.

Everyone thinks I'm doing ok. It's a lie. I'm not. I just had a shower. All I could think about in the shower was that I didn't dose Polli with enough vitamin c. And what would have happened if she had the right dressings when her breast fungated months before they used proper dressings.

Who knows. What ifs are pointless I know. Doesn't stop me thinking of them.

I feel broken and alone right now.