Opening excerpt
The story is being told from Andrew's perspective.
Northala Fields, one of my favourite parks in the borough of Ealing. I ascended along the spiral hill until I came across an empty bench, very near the top. Much to my fortune, this enabled a relatively reasonable view of some of London's most iconic landmarks, from the Gherkin to the Shard.
Whilst inhaling the fresh air around the perfect clear blue sky, I suddenly felt a tap on my shoulder. It wasn't something, it was someone. So I looked up. "Andrew!" It was Tom Hillary, my one and only true friend. Same age, dark brown medium curly hair, freckles on his face, close-in-height but a few inches shorter, with a very cute grin. "Tom, my brother! How are you?" I smiled back. We embraced in a prolonged hug, before unveiling two cans of dandelion and burdock from his rucksack, which he kindly brought along. This was one memorable opportunity to open up.
"So, how have you been coping… since the funeral?" he asked, feeling cautious about his choice of words. "Still missing Dad every single day," I opened my can and took a sip before I leaned closer towards him. "Which is why I brought you here - to tell you what happened four months ago, regarding my health."
"Your health?" Tom began playing the air violin and mimicking a slow sad tune - it became rather squeaky to my ears. "No, don't, don't do that," I tried to hide my nervous laughter. "Oh, Andrew, I was only winding you up," he exclaimed, giving me that very cute grin. "Why would I play the violin to deliberately ridicule what you're about to tell me?" Then we bursted out laughing before each having another sip of dandelion and burdock. It wasn't the first time doing this sort of comical act together. "Just like winding up the clock, backwards and forwards, to find the right place and the right time. That's the thing about the Doctor."
"Who?"
"Exactly."
I found Tom's reaction priceless, but thought containing it would be more appropriate for this case. There was so much to tell him about when and how the Doctor came along to save my life. Psychologically and literally, from the dangers of depression and death. The Doctor is not just some ordinary psychologist; he is a very empathetic and sympathetic man who understands the human mind, as well as experiencing all forms of loss.
"So this 'Doctor', how exactly did he save you?"
I had to elaborate, to help Tom understand the broader context. "My Mum didn't phone him, nor my local GP; he just came out of the blue, as a matter of fact and perspective. Everything surrounding my Dad's lymphoma, none of this kept me going - right until the Doctor came much later on during the most stressful situation in my life, when I received 'negative help' (some oxymoron I believe to have coined not too long ago)."