John Tothill

And he said, if you'd have left it one day more, you'd be dead.

You wouldn't be here, and that'd be it.

It's really, really hard to hear that and not think he's saying that I came in at exactly the right time.

So I was right not to cancel yesterday's show.

Thank you.

My timing's immaculate.

I was incredibly lucky.

I feel incredibly lucky to survive, you know.

Anyway, right.

Edward Dando.

Edward Dando died when he was my age.

Edward Dando died when he was 29 years old.

He was also a man of timing, actually, because he died just as oysters were starting to become over-farmed, and they were falling out of fashion in London, and oyster restaurants were starting to close and go out of business.

And it'd be really easy to think of the story of Edward Dando as the story of a man who never learned his lesson.

But I don't think that's true.

I think Edward Dando did learn his lesson.

I think Edward Dando resolved every single time to continue doing the thing that he absolutely loved more than anything else.

And as I lay there in that hospital bed, anxious to come back to the Edinburgh Fringe, I thought of Edward Dando in solitary confinement, and I hope that every single time he thought to himself, when I get out of here, do you know what I really fancy?

And I hope that for him, every time it was worth the wait.

Because I can promise you from the bottom of my heart, this certainly has been.