mostly david ephgrave

Once again, I find myself racing to get on top of things, yet falling short. It doesn't help that my dad's still in hospital with us no knowing when he'll come out; nor does the fact I haven't had time to look over material for my dates in Bath next week. On top of this, a combination of a couple of quiet or slow-to-sell Mostly Comedys have put me on edge, worried that I'm going to have to subsidise a temporary shortfall due to a lack of cash flow, and all this without considering the work I need to do for Edinburgh, but haven't had time to consider yet; is it any wonder I'm close to metaphorically pulling my hair out and who can blame me? The point is, I don't feel anyone's really interested in what I do, other than when I bring acts to Hitchin for people to be impressed by. And even that has a limit, particularly when it happens so often for some of the excitement and allure of who we get to rub off. Then to top it off, the money I take from it...

Stress levels are running high within my family at the moment, in response to my dad's health. Ostensibly, he's doing better in the sense that he's in hospital receiving the treatment needed to rebuild him from his fall at the weekend, which was brought on by a combination of dehydration and a kidney infection, which made him hallucinate. The hard thing to contend with, however, is the patience needed to navigate his demands; I love him, and I'd do anything for him, but my God he's frustrating when he's ill.   What usually happens when he ends up in the hospital in an emergency is my mum and I are run ragged for the first few days as we try to make him comfortable and meet his often unclear requests. His patience with us is slim-to-none, and yet we have to blank out his forgetfulness about us. I sometimes feel like I'm Rosencrantz or Guildenstern to my dad's Hamlet, and that I disappear into the ether like a fine mist when I hang up the phone to his ...

I went to visit my dad in hospital in Cambridge today and, considering how things were just three days ago - and how bleak the prognosis was - the improvement is pretty damn miraculous; it’s the Second Coming in an Ephgrave sense. This only serves to illustrate how incredible the human body is and what it can cope with. It’s also a reminder of what an excellent job the NHS does (which was something I wrote about a few days ago). Without a couple of well-meaning nurses giving my dad some medication towards the end of Friday primarily to make him comfortable he may very well have not been with us today; it just goes to show you what a crapshoot life is, to use a ostensibly negative word in a positive sense; it’s all just a succession of small decisions which add up to make a whole, for good or for bad; I can only be eternally grateful things turned out as they did as they very nearly didn’t. The hospital in Cambridge (Addenbrooke’s) is pretty space-a...

What better way to mark today’s strange Valentine’s / Ash Wednesday mash-up than going to hospital to have a growth on my face investigated? It was nothing if not romantic; all lovers of love should do this. Why take your wife out for a romantic meal when you can ask her to accompany you to an appointment where a dermatologist stares at your facial irregularities through a giant magnifying glass to rule out melanoma? Move over Cassanova, there’s a new kid in town, and that kid’s got seborrheic keratoses that are more likely to be seen on a man in his fifties; who says I’m not a catch? The good news was they (for there are two) are nothing to worry about, which was a relief. It was only because one had grown considerably towards the end of last year before falling off - as I said: “catch” - that I went to the GP to be referred to a specialist to double-check it, and while I knew it was most likely not a concern, I didn’t want to rely on my untrained...

My dad came out of hospital today, which was good news all round. I was glad it was today and not Monday, when my mum will be at work and I have my show in Camden in the evening, or tomorrow when I’d be preparing for it. Also, it was just good to know he’d be back at home full stop, as I know he was getting sick of it (no pun intended). My wife and I went to pick him up early this afternoon and remarkably were back in the car - having gone up to the ward to help get my dad’s stuff together and then walked back to the car park - less than twenty minutes after arriving, which was pretty impressive, particularly considering my dad’s walking about has been minimal since he was admitted; perhaps it was his keenness to get home that helped it all be so speedy. After we’d got him back and had sorted a few things out for him, we returned home to a reasonably quiet evening. I decided to reserve any further work on my show for tomorrow and not today, though I don’t have much to do, ...

Today was one of those ‘chasing your tails’ days, where I kept jumping from one thing to the next. It started with me meeting Glyn for breakfast, ostensibly to discuss work, but really to catch up more than anything. January's always the worst time of year for us to get together as he concentrates primarily on company-managing the Adult Panto tour, which has more dates this year than ever; it’s due to this that he’ll miss the first Mostly Comedy of 2018 next week. After that, I headed to the office to chase up a few potential line-ups for the forthcoming season and to order the artwork for my show in Leicester next month, which I edited last night. Once again, I find myself spending more time on admin than anything; I’d hoped to rehearse today, but everything else conspired to get in the way; hopefully tomorrow will be different. The main job I'd wanted to squeeze into today was getting a few posters and flyers for Phill Jupitus’ to...

Today, I made an unexpected trip to A&E, which I suppose is what most A&E visits tend to be. Thankfully, it wasn’t for anything too serious. The problem wasn’t mine but my dad’s and was linked to a long-running condition and - while I don’t think the doctors are too concerned - it has resulted in him staying in overnight, which is obviously the best place for him to be if he isn’t well. What was notable throughout my time there today (as it always is when I’ve been in a similar situation) is how incredibly caring and committed the staff there tend to be. The service they provide is exceptional, not least when you consider the punishing work hours and the lack of funding and support the NHS gets from the government, despite providing perhaps our most vital service. Still, at least Theresa May’s cabinet reshuffle this week resulted in Jeremy Hunt maintaining his post as Health Secretary, which can only be due to the fantastic job he does. ...