My family and friends are in complete support of my healing.

Support turns up in an order nobody predicts.

People you expected to be there sometimes go quiet — not from unkindness, usually because they cannot bear it. Meanwhile someone from the edge of your life, a colleague, a neighbour you have spoken to four times, starts putting your bins out on Sunday nights and never mentions it.

The useful kind rarely asks how you're feeling. It arrives with a specific offer: I'm at the shop, what do you need.

Count the odd ones in. The circle is usually a different shape from the one you thought, and often wider.