When she came towards what I've since realised was the end, she stopped eating and drinking. Because I then had these difficult decisions to make and I was obsessed. OK I was still going out to dance because you have to have diversions, if you don't have diversions you would go mad yourself.

But every day I had to run over the decision about whether we were doing the right thing. Whether, and every day I said to myself and I used to say when I got to the home: 'Have you tried her with food today? How did she get on?' 'She had a yoghurt and half a spoonful of custard,' and so on, that was a tremendous turning point because I, the guilt then was different. Am I condemning her to die by taking this attitude you know. And then having to reconcile the guilt with the fact that when I was out dancing I was really enjoying myself. Obviously I couldn't inflict that on other people. I don't know whether that requires a split personality but I suppose I really had one.

But of course, and of course the interesting thing about the final turning point which of course on her death was that just, after the initial emotional impact was the tremendous relief that it brought you know. Again, something that made you feel slightly guilty but you had to reconcile your feeling of guilt, you had to balance it with the fact that it was so much better for her. She'd stopped suffering, she'd gone peacefully, she'd gone without pain, you'd done your best so really you didn't really need to feel all that guilty.

And I must say that although that I wouldn't have believed it at the time and perhaps for some two or three months afterwards, I must say that I now find myself talking to my wife, or to her photograph as though she were still here. But talking without any inhibitions at all, without any feelings of guilt. So that was tremendous turning point really. What ever has happened to her since she died it's certainly made a big difference from my point of view. And we're still, we're still good mates.