Archives: Work

Two days of lying in bed and doing NOTHING at all actually did the trick and I am now able to sit in my study and actually comtemplate work.

I say “comtemplate” because we all know (or at the very least we should all know by now) that I’m the world’s number one procrastinator and can find a way to weedle out my time sat in front of my computer better than anyone else in the whole wide, entire world.

As it happens, I have achieved a lot of “work” today by checking and sending emails.  These consist largely of sending ideas out to people for possible projects/ideas for collaborations which I’m hoping to get off the ground.

The Youth Theatre experience has taught me that being house-bound and energy-limited needn’t necessarily mean not doing anything at all, but rather that I need to find the right project and the right people to work with to make the most of what I have to offer.

So I need to find myself things to do whereby I can inspire and facilitate things for other people to pull off: kind of like a producer on a film – which is, interestingly, one of the projects I’m considering.

Like all good executives, what I need is to set up a situation where I can delegate work to the people who can handle it and can fill in for me when I’m not up to the task.  At the same time, it should leave something on my plate to make me feel a) involved and b) useful.  Being a base-touching point-of-contact is perrhaps the ideal situation.

That may all be rubbish, of course, and in fact just be providing a very useful excuse to give me a reason to avoid sitting at my desk and getting any worthwhile writing done, but then I’d hardly be doing myself justice if I wasn’t working hard to avoid working hard.

In fact, trying my best to avoid doing any work appears to be the perfect proof that I need that I must be well on the mend.  If I’m not moaning about not being able to work, then I must be doing my best to avoid doing it when I am able.

Most people would think that ironic, I know.  Lucy I’m not most people.

And Sunday’s show was spectacular – with a capital Spec.

Undaunted by a day spent running here there and everywhere trying to fit in as much technical work as possible and still have a chance to rehearse their pieces, all of the groups absolutely shone and truly showed the talents with which Suzanne and I have been working for the last 5 years.

In the whole process of seeing all of the kids and young people on stage, I even managed to forget all the things that were most bothering me about my input (or lack of it) over the last few months and actually take in and appreciate what a huge achievement this show has been not just for the groups involved, but for the whole creative team.

That’s not to say the endeavour didn’t come without it’s price – two days of being laid up in bed not able to do anything more than stumble to and from the bathroom and occasionally as far as the kettle for tea seems to be a pretty high price to pay, but then if it gets me through the rest of the week with no ill-effects then maybe it just proves that I’m learning to listen to my body.

Physically, I handled Sunday really badly. Intent on showing my support to the oldest group by being their for their rehearsal in the afternoon, I completely overlooked the fact that the scheduled break between tech and performance almost never materialises. Rather than getting an hour to take myself back home and recover/carbo-load for the evening, I instead found myself staying at the Theatre and “working” through it.

The quotation marks aren’t meant as a self-depreciating qualifier on the day’s activities, but rather an acknowledgement that for most of Sunday, I was a passenger. Here and there I lent a bit of a helping hand, but really there was nothing to be done that wasn’t a) already covered by someone else, such was the level of organisation or B) physically impossible for me to do.

Strangely, this last fact didn’t seem to perturb me as much as I expected it to. It did cross my mind a couple of times that this time last year I’d have been running all over the place and doing whatever needed doing, whereas this time I was simply sat on the sidelines watching others do the running, but I somehow managed to section it off from the rest of my thoughts.

I suppose it goes back to the train analogy I first wrote about here, and I clearly unconsciously managed to avoid getting on the train of negative thought and instead kept myself where I should be, making the most of the opportunity afforded to our wonderfully talented bunch of youngsters.

The last two days have been pretty tough, and I’ve certainly felt it on my chest, but I’m really hoping that I’ve handled it well enough that it’s not going to be a major set back. The problem with my cruddy lungs, though, is that you just never know.

But it’s another successful MKT production under my belt, another fantastic learning experience, and there is a world of possibilities still out there for me. Here’s hoping I find one to pick up soon.

It appears, having just flitted over to the CF Trust’s message boards, and by looking through my inboxes, that I’ve had people rather worried by disappearing from my blog for the last few days.   Oops.

I assure you, everything is fine.  Certainly improving.

To tell the truth (not sure why I needed to add that, since it hardly pays to lie to oneself on your own blog….) I was bumming myself out, which is why I stopped for a bit.

Far from reminding myself to Smile Through It and keep on finding the positives in the darker times of life, I found that every time I started writing a post on the blog in the last few weeks, it’s only been to say either that I feel like cr*p or that nothing’s changed for the better.  Even the times when things had changed for the better, the change seemed so infinitesimal and pathetic that it either wasn’t worth mentioning, or served only to lower my despondency about how I’ve been doing.

It’s been weird to find myself trapped in a vicious circle of negative thought, and not something I’ve been used to in life.  Most times, my dark periods inhabit the odd spell of a week or so before things conspire to kick me up the butt and show me the way to carry on.  This latest down-turn has been different, though.

I don’t know if it’s the increased fear of mortality (or, “Am I gonna kick it?” as I prefer to call it) or the impairment to my quality of life inherent in having sunshine blazing through the windows but not enough energy to leave the apartment and enjoy it, but I’ve been lost in a mire of negativity for the last few weeks from which I seemed to have lost the map that usually provides my guide.

Sure, I’ve had good moments – I’ve managed to share Easter with the families around me, I’ve shared a little laughter with friends, I’ve even managed a trip to Borders (hurrah!), but there has been an overwhelming sense of good, old-fashioned, Dickensian melancholy hanging over me throughout.

It’s not that I entirely lost perspective on the whole thing: last week I was sitting a the funeral of a young girl who’s been an almost constant fixture of my working life for the last six years, since she’s been coming to the MK Youth Theatre sessions since their inception.  Sitting in the packed church among many young people experiencing their first distressing taste of grief, I realised that the very day I hit my lowest point – Sunday 1st April, as documented here previously – her Mum, Dad, younger brother and Grandparents were waking up to a new world without their beloved daughter.  How could I complain about pain in my life when held up against the pain of a parent outliving their child?

I’ve still appreciated each day I’ve been given, but it sticks in my proverbial craw (I’ve never really known what that means, but it seems to fit here, anyway…) that “making the most of it” is limited to sitting in the chair at the bay window using the bright sunlight to read by, as opposed the to dim interior light all through winter.

Finally, though, after weeks of dragging myself through the rough parts of every day and persevering in ways I wasn’t even sure I was capable of, I seem to have made it out the other side.

That’s not to say things are all bright and rosy, but I have at least got the energy to pop over to my ‘rents and enjoy the fresh air and sunshine if I want to, or to sit in the study and surf the ‘net a while without completely exhausting myself and having to collapse into bed.

I’m able finally to contemplate looking at the next issue of CF Talk, which has been sitting unattended on my desk for nearly 2 months now and is in dire need of completion.  I’m able to think about the other writing projects I was looking at before and see if I can rekindle the spark that was there before.  I’m able to focus my mind on something other than how my chest is feeling or whether or not I should stay in bed rather than move to the sofa.

I’ve one more negativity-hurdle to overcome, and that will be over after the weekend.

This Sunday sees the Activ8 Youth Theatre show at MKT take place, an event which was to have been my first opportunity to get stuck in to directing a short piece for the Youth Theatre and to benefit the CF Trust.  If I’m honest, I saw it as something of a swansong with them, acknowledging as I have to the likelihood that my involvement is being compelled by my chest to end.

Rather than a happy ending, though, it’s going to be an extremely tough one to get through.  Not just physically, although I can’t pretend that that’s not going to be a challenge in itself,  but because I’ve ended up having almost nothing to do with the finished product.  Three weeks’ of rehearsal in a 12 week term doesn’t amount to a contribution, in my mind, and the work I had hoped to see up on the stage is now more likely to bring me down than uplift me.

I wanted so much to make this something to remember – an event that showed the Theatre’s support not just for the CF Trust, but for the whole Youth Theatre, and a true showcase of the talent which has been nurtured through Activ8 over the last half a decade.  And don’t get me wrong – it is still very much all of those things.

But it doesn’t feel like it’s anything to do with me.  I feel like a passenger, an outsider, something akin to a “consultant” who’s seen parts of the process leading up to performance and had a little input, but not someone who forms part of the “team” whose talents are being showcased.

I know that people will shout me down and will be quick to try to dissuade all of my fears and make me feel a part of it, but I can’t get passed the fact that I’ve not been there for them or with them for pretty much the entire term.  This is their show and their showcase, and it’s nothing to do with me any more.  That saddens me, and it’s going to be hard, but nothing will stop me being their to support them.

I am trying to keep my air of positivity and move forward from here – and I know I will continue to progress – but I also know that this weekend is going to be a really tough one to get through.

Thanks to everyone for your good vibes, your love and prayers over the last few weeks.  They really do make a difference, and they have helped me enormously.  I shall endeavour to keep up with my more regular out-put of the past, as I will endeavour to keep myself looking up and not down, forward and not back.

Keep on truckin’.

No, not like that, you dirty-minded little ratbag.  Hehe – I said ratbag.

No, swinging as in modd-swings, as in ups and downs and roundabouts – a very Miton Keynes kind of blues.

Today’s been full of it.  Every particular kind of “it” you can imagine.  Except that one.  I’ve been up, down, and all around, trying to work out what on earth my head, body, mind, brain, chest, feet and hands are up to.

I’ve decided the answer is that I don’t know.

Having spent the weekend doing nothing, following two days of doing nothing, I’m feeling somewhat bored of nothing-ness.  Today was supposed to be a better day because a) I’ve spent 4 days doing nothing, so I must have improved, even just a little and b) I actually had something to focus on – a telephone interview with David Seaman (ex of England and Arsenal) for CF Talk.

It started slowly (the day, that is, not the interview), it taking me a while to wake up, but I did get up with a good deal less pain than I’ve had for the last few days.  This morning’s discomfort was more in the line of “aches” than pains, which I attribute largely to muscular discomfort after over-compensating for the positions which caused me pain over the weekend.

After dropping K off at work, I prepared for the interview, but when I phoned, David was out (how inconsiderate).

I then sat around for the rest of the morning and I have honestly no idea what I did in the 3 hours between phoning DS and speaking to him when he phoned me back this afternoon.

I’d rather given up on the idea of speaking to him today, actually, and was hugely tired before he did call.  I toyed with the idea for a while of leaving an out-going voicemail message saying, “Hello David Seaman, thanks for calling back, I’m just having a bitof a nap at the moment, but let me know when you’re free and I’ll call you back when I wake up.”

Thought it might seem a bit odd.  Especially if the BT man rang.

Still, I managed to prise my eyes open long enough to hang on for his call.  I managed to stay awake all through the interview, too, which I took to be a good thing because I can’t help feeling it’s a little rude to nod off when talking to a celebrity over the phone.

As it happened, I’m not sure he would have minded, since he seemed like a really lovely bloke.  I managed to glean lots of interesting bits and bobs from our half-hour chat today, including the fact that he is a huge INXS fan, which I promised not o hold against him, in the same way I tried not to hold it against him that he captained the Arsenal side which beat Southampton in the 2003 FA Cup final I was in Cardiff for.

I also learnt he owns a Geri Halliwell album.  He claims it’s his wife’s.

After that, though, things seem to have gone downhill.  (In my day, not the interview, that is).

I picked K up from work and took myself off to bed, where I dozed for an hour or so, then propped myself up in bed with a cuppa to read for a while, but found myself feeling distinctly unpleasant after not too long.  This rampant see-sawing of  wellness has started to drag in the most incessant way.

I’m finding it harder and harder to stay on an even keel mentally when my body sees fit to flip-flop all over the place physically.  It’s not that I seem to be changing from day-to-day, it’s that I can change from hour-to-hour, one minute up and full of energy, ideas and get-up-and-go and the next minute with less energy than a battery-run bunny after a 10-hour run-off against the Duracell dude.

If only there was a pattern or a rhyme or reason to what was happening or when it happened, I would at least be able to square it in my head so that I was prepared for the sudden on-rush of bleakness.  But the constant swinging from state to state creates such an enormous  flux through the day that I find it impossible to anticipate and I find myself being dragged down mentally as soon as I flag physically.

I am hoping against hope that the next few days bring a renewed strength and chance to focus myself on to some of the things I really want to do, because much more of this flip-flopping, see-sawing, up-downing and I think I really might go mad.

Either that or I’ll find myself watching day-time TV, which is the same thing, really.

On top of the new play, there are more things bubbling along in the Oli-melting pot at the moment, all grabbing my attention here, there and everywhere – that’s how I love it, though.

First off, and most importantly, there’s the Activ8 Youth Theatre show at Milton Keynes Theatre, which is coming up on April 22nd and is coming together really nicely in rehearsals at the moment. We’re currently chatting about marketing strategies and getting all the info on the show out to a wider audience than would normally support a Youth Theatre show, mostly because a) the kids and young people taking part really deserve a full house to show what they’ve achieved and b) it’s all in aid of the CF Trust.

So if you’ve nothing in your diary for April 22nd, click here NOW and book your tickets to come and see the show. It’s going to be a knock-out and the earlier you book, the better seats you’ll get, because they’re all priced at a fiver – that’s cheaper than a night at the cinema!

Beyond April, the LLTGL team have a couple of projects we’re starting to look at, including looking ahead to a repeat of Laughter for Life next March, following the immense success of this year’s show.

We’re also looking at the possibility of organising some kind of a rally – maybe in super-cheap cars – which would take place in early autumn and involve a jaunt around the British Isles in some form or other. And, naturally, would end in a nice big party when you reach the finish.

There’s lots of good ideas bouncing about and I think it’s something we’re going to pursue soon, but it’s just a case of nailing down the format and looking at logistics and things like that.

Keep your eyes peeled for more info as and when.

On top of all of that, I’ve got the new issue of CF Talk to turn around and get off to the designers so we can get it out at leat vaguely in the right timescale. OK, so it’s still going to be as late as ever, but I promise it’s going to be good.

If you’re not already on the mailing list to receive CF Talk and you’d like to (it’s free, from the CF Trust) just email here with your name and full address and we’ll make sure you get a copy.

So just a few bits and bobs going on for the moment – nothing too drastic.

Oh, and I also received an email from Bill Bryson yesterday, letting me know how hugely successfully the organ donor campaign has been going at Durham University, where he is currently chancellor. Not only that, but that he was taking the campaign idea to chancellors of all the other uni’s today to see if we can’t take it nationwide.

I met Bill around this time last year at the CF Trust’s Breathing Life Awards and immediately hi-jacked him for an interview with CF Talk at some point later in the year. Sure enough, he obliged only to happily and our brief 15-20 minute phone chat turned into nearly an hour.

In the middle of the call, while I was supposed to be interviewing him, I mentioned the fact that I was waiting for a transplant (it was actually in the context of a question about holiday destinations) and he turned the interview around and positively grilled me (in the nicest possible way) about transplants, the organ donor register and the problems that we have with donation in this country.

From then on, things seemed to take a life of their own and it only seemed that a light jogging was needed from Bill to his students for them to shoot off and go crazy with the idea – running off T-shirts and organising the campaign with amazing professionalism, it would seem.

Apparently, although I’ve yet to see the “merchandise”, it all centres around the hook, “My friend Oli…”. Being the naturally shy, introverted type that I am, I obviously feel very uncomfortable about all of this, and the prospect of yet more attention being focused not only on Transplant, but on me personally. However, sometimes in life you have to make personal sacrifices for a greater cause, and I feel that this is one of those times.

I mean, come on, a campaign named after me!?! Pretty soon it won’t be lack of portable oxygen keeping me in the house, it’ll be a head too big to go through the door….

You know how sometimes you just keep rolling along, a certain sense of momentum propelling you forward regardless of how you’re actually doing?  And you know how eventually, you find time to stop, sit down, take a rest and chill out – and then you discover just how exhaisted and run-down your body really is?

Well, that’s me.

I seem to have somehow bluffed and blundered my way through the last 6 days and now I’ve reached the weekend, I’ve taken two days out to rest and supposedly recouperate, and I find myself more exhausted now than I did when I went to bed on Friday night.

It’s good to know that my chest can be relied upon to perform to it’s best at the right times, although a bit of warning of a delayed-reaction strop would have been nice, if I’m honest.

I feel somewhat aggrieved that I’ve spent my weekend doing nothing to recover and my body feels like it’s been forced to to and Iron Man and a marathon back-to-back – but I suppose that running the backstage side of a comedy night and partying thill 2 in the morning, coupled with a “normal” working week including early mornings and evenings out is pretty much my body’s equivalent to the Iron Man-Marathon combo.

The important thing is to stay on top of the treatments, make sure I’m getting my physio and nebs done and keeping the flow of calories as high as possible to make sure that exhaustion doesn’t lead to any other nastiness.  If I can’t do much but the vital things this week, it’s not the end of the world – I need to make sure I’m not trying to carry on as normal and running myself into the ground – always a danger with me, I’m aware.

So it’s early nights, lots of rest, little to do during the day and plenty of food – when I can get my appetite to play ball.  The rest of the week will have to stay on stand-by until I know that my body’s ready to come back out of its shell.

It’s been a bit of a weird week this week – I appear to have been either out of the house working or running errands, or asleep.  It’s a bit all-or-nothing.

After travelling home on Monday I was shattered, but ok with a bit of an afternoon nap, then I had Tuesday morning to laze around before being on Taxi duty for K (through choice not compulsion, I must add).

Then yesterday, K started her new job (yay!), which meant I was up at 8am to get her there (boo), and then found myself coming home and passing out on the bed again till the afternoon – not intentionally, but when your body’s bossing you around after a weekend like mine, you listen.

Then last night it was back to normality with my session at MKT with the Youth Theatre.

I say “normality”, but it’s not every week that I get to spend 20 minutes shooting part of a short film with Samantha Janus just after she’s come off stage in Guys and Dolls.  Even by my celeb-bumping-into standards, this was a bit on the surreal side, my friend Helen (who’s the dep wardrobe mistress on the show) having spoken to her and got her to agree to do us a favour and pop up in cameo in our opening film for the YT show.

She was lovely, and very accomodating, especially since we literally accosted her straight off stage, at a time when I would imagine most performers just want to be left alone to veg out – especially with another show starting in just over 2 hour’s time.  But she happily stood around and delivered her line of dialogue for us enough times for us to cover it and we left her to it.

The rehearsal itself was very good again.  I spent the first part working with the Chorus on the piece I’d written, which was good fun, although slightly odd to be blocking something I’ve had in my head.  It’s what I love about working with performers, though, because it really gives you a chance to work through things and see how they work -and if it’s your own script, you can chop it and change it as much as you like.

The second half of the session was back with my Hamlet trio, who again worked diligently and have formed a great little grouping.  They were struggling slightly to get to the meaning behind some of the Shakespearean waffle, but we worked through it and managed to get through to what lies underneath the flowery poetry and make it make a bit more sense.

Although the show’s not too far away now (and if they’re reading this, they really need to be learning their lines!!), I think this piece has the potential to really show how talented some of our young people are.  Combined with the piece that Suze is directing – called After Juliet, a modern take on the aftermath of the Romeo and Juliet story – it’s a chance for our older members to really show some flair for the dramatic, and we both know that they’ve got the range and the power to do it.

That’s not to say it’s not going to take a considerable amount of work on their part, and support for them on ours, but if the work goes into it, they could make it something really special.  Of course, if they don’t, there’s the worrying prospect of it coming out as a group of youngsters lost in a mire of misunderstood poetry.  But that’s the challenge.

I’m hoping that this weekend is going to provide a nice window of relaxation for me – a chance to stay in bed, or veg on the sofa and do as little as possible, whilst shoe-horning as many calories as possible down my throat to keep energy levels high and infections at bay.

It may have left me struggling for energy, but I’m determined that the weekend isn’t going to take me down!

Blimey, life moves at a hundred miles an hour sometimes, doesn’t it?

A friend asked me the otheer day how I think of things to put in this blog everyday – and I have to admit sometimes it does seem a little pointless to be writing when nothing much has happened.

And then you get days like today, where it’s ALL happened!

It all kicked off at 10am this morning when the phone woke us up.  Until today, I’ve been up and about by 8.30am every day for over 2 weeks – completely naturally, waking of my own accord.  But the first day I sleep in, it all kicks off.

Steve from Tin Racr Design was on the phone, asking if I’d got his proof of the programme through yet, which I had to confess I’d not seen because I wasn’t out of bed.  Hastily rolling out of bed, I plonked myself in front of the computer and checked my mails to discover not just the proof, but also an email from the printers we thought were handling the printing for us saying they could no longer do it.

To say I panicked would be overstating it slightly – I’m not really a panicky person –  but let’s say my calm took a bit of a dent.  Rolling K out of bed, I thrust the phone, a yellow pages and an outline of what we needed into her hands and got her dialling while I jumped on the job of proof-reading the awesome-looking programme.

In the middle of the chaos, other emails kept firing in from various sources, all seemingly demanding instant attention.  I can go days without getting any emails (well, ok, not at the moment) and usually you can sort them into various piles of urgency, but almost every one that came through today seemed to need an immediate response.

Understandably, with all my activity and the prospect of an exhausting rehearsal session at the Theatre tonight still to come, K was getting anxious that I pace myself and make sure I was keeping enough in my tank.

I pride myself on working well under pressure and although I had a couple of moments of dread at points today, I managed not only to address everything I needed to, but also to make sure I had enough time to have a proper lunch and take time to lie down in the afternoon to recharge before work.

As well as signing off on the programme, today has seen me: get hold of a follow-spot for the show, finalise two auction lots, get a sponsor for the programme (the legendary Dunham’s Solicitors in MK), confirm all the technical details with the venue and recruit a stage manager to handle the back-stage organisation for the show (well, nearly recruit, anyway, as it’s dependent on getting hold of someone else first – but we’re nearly there).

Not only that, but I’ve had a three-hour rehearsal at MKT for the Youth Theatre show, including an hour-and-a-half working solely with my three wonderful Hamlet cast members who have taken to the whole thing so much better than I could possibly have hoped.

Shakespeare is not an easy thing to grasp and there’s a lot of nuance and little touches to the text which can take an age to go over and discover in the rehearsal process.  I was so happy tonight to find that the cast have already got a good grasp of the text, but also that they are keen to share ideas and work with me and with each other to find a balance between their characters.

It’s been a long time since I’ve worked specifically as a director in a rehearsal setting and it felt great to be putting something together again – I realised tonight just how much I miss that area of the Theatre and how much more I want to do down that avenue.

On top of which, I also delivered the final part of the piece I’ve written to open the first and second acts of the show and it went down really well with the cast, which is always a good place to start.  I was concerned it might need a bit of redrafting, which would have been a headache considering how limited the rehearsal time now is, but it’s actually looking like it’s going to be OK as-is.

And now I find myself back home in front of my inbox again (with another 12 emails come through since I left the house at 5.30 tonight) and discovering a whole new load of greatness to polish off my day.

We’ve got some really good media interest, which will hopefully convert into coverage, and a few more pieces of the auction have fallen into place – including securing a workshop for people to see behind the scenes on Avenue Q, which I’m so insanely excited about it’s funny.

I’m now tired enough to go to sleep almost immediately, but I’m also pleased that I don’t feel totally exhausted.  I suppose the true measure is going to be how I feel when I roll out of bed and drag myself over to Oxford for clinic in the morning, but I think I’ve got the Big Guy on my side this week and he’s making sure I’ve got the fuel inside to see me through the weekend.

That said, I’m not taking anything for granted: I know I have to look after myself and pace myself or I’m not going to be able to make the most of what’s going to be one of the best night’s of my life.

Four days and counting!

I’m always loathe to jump up and down and rave about having a good few days without any enforced bouts of bed rest.  Well, let’s face it, I’m always loathe to jump up and down full stop any more.  All right, I’ve ALWAYS been loathe to jump up and down.  Even when I could.

Still, it seems that the last few days have been particularly encouraging for me – a full day’s shooting all day Saturday, a nice, restful Sunday which still managed to include a trip to K’s parent’s for a lovely Sunday/Brithday lunch for her Mum and a middlingly-active day today getting K sorted for her new job and fixed up with sexy new specs.

I seem – seem – to have found a nice equilibrium with my energy levels for the moment – succeeding in balancing a need for restful periods with achieving the most important goals of the day without running myself completely into the ground.

I’m hesitant to be fully excited until I get a couple of days further into the week with no repercussions, but so far, so good.

The day’s shooting on Saturday was really good fun.  Although we had quite a bit of time pressure to ensure we were out of the public areas of the Theatre by the time the matinee audience came in, we actually got all of the stuff we wanted relatively quickly and with very few hiccups.

We did, unfortunately, realise later that we’d miss-shot one scene and made a fatal error known in the trade as “crossing the line”.  This is far too hideously boring to explain in full to anyone not familiar with the term, as it’s a bit of a pedantic, anally retentive technical thingy to look out for, but unfortunately it’s one thing that can completely ruin a film when it’s all cut together.  Most of an audience would never be able to point it out, but would undoubtedly know there’s something wrong with what their watching.

Luckily for us, the scene in question with the minorly-major technical hiccup (or f**k up, depending on your view) is one which we still have to shoot a couple of additional shots for, so shouldn’t be too much of a problem to go back and rectify.  Fingers crossed.

Today I spent another morning in front of a camera, this time giving an interview for a student film for Bournemouth  University’s journalism programme about transplant and life on the list, as well as what can be done to increase donor rates.

It’s nothing major, but I was put in touch with the filmmaker through UK Transplant and as I said at the time I agreed to it, any publicity is good publicity.  I think it’s particularly good because there’s a chance it’ll be seen by a good number of students at the uni and that the message it sends out will get through to one of the most campaign-aware sectors of the population.

There’s huge amounts of resources sitting around university campuses in way of students who can be incredibly vocal about any subject close to their heart.  Make just a few of them aware of the importance of having people signed up to the organ donor register and there could be a whole new wave of Live Life Then Give Life supporters coming through the system and shouting louder than we have before.

Arrangements continue apace for Laughter for Life and I’ve spent a large chunk of the day on the phone to various people and rapidly swapping emails to finalise press strategy for the week, with local MK releases going out tomorrow.  Our national campaign should begin in earnest this week, too, although we’re a little disappointed that Bill’s not able to help us with shouting from the rooftops due to his already manic schedule.

That said, we’ve got an entire 3-hour gig lined up for Sunday night with some of the countries top comedians donating their time for nothing and for which we’ve already sold out a 600-seat Theatre, so it’s pretty hard to be unhappy about anything!

Here’s hoping the rest of the week stays as smooth as today.  We’ve got a few auction lots to finalise and gather, as well as the press and media work to cover.  I’ve got some technical gubbins to double check and artists to liase with.  We’ve got an auction to plan and sales to figure out, and I don’t even know what I’m wearing yet!

Gosh, it’s all go!

Avid readers (do I actually have any….?) will no doubt remember my excitement at the turn of the year to receive my – free – upgrade of my mobile phone to the office-in-a-phone BlackBerry Pearl.

Now, apart from having it banned in the house, things have all been pretty rosey and happy with my new toy and I’ve enjoyed having it very much.  You will also remember that the main reason for getting myself the ‘Berry was so that I could stay in touch with the outside world while I was in hospital – I could continue work on CF Talk, I could stay in touch with my mates via email, this saving enormous text-message bills, and I could keep abreast of all the other various random emails which come my way from time to time through various different sources.

In particular, I was keen that I would be able to use it to email updates through to my blog when I was incarcerated at Dr Majesty’s pleasure – so that people would know what’s been going on and how I’m doing.

The problem I discovered with my theory throughout this week was simple: nothing happens.

In hospital, unless you’re on the critical care list and you’re hanging by a thread (and thank heavens I’m not there yet!), then time spent in hospital is mind-numbingly boring and NOTHING happens to you during the day.

I realised the idiocy of writing a blog on the goings-on in hospital when I sat down to consider it on Wednesday night and realised that the single most interesting, comment-worthy thing that had happened to me all day was that my dinner was delivered 45 minutes late.  I mean, people, it was AFTER 6pm!  Can you believe it?

Now, I’ve surfed some pretty spectacularly dull blogs in my time and I’ll confess that this isn’t always a riot of colour, but even that is beyond me.

Mum and Dad are decorating the house at the moment and I was more inclined to YouTube a video of their paint drying than to blog about my days in hospital.

Hence, you’ll gather, the lack of updates this week.

Happily, I’m now back residing in my own house with real, important things to blog about.

For instance, today I’ve had three cups of tea and I’ve had my glasses re-glazed with a new prescription so I can see when I’m driving.  I’ve also delivered a letter to the council regarding my benefits.

See – you’re life’s better for knowing all of that now, isn’t it?  Doesn’t it just fill you with that rush of enthusiastic, finger-on-the-pulse sense of truly politcally hot fresh news without which you’d be not only more ill-informed, but also a few minutes younger?

OK, so maybe my day’s still aren’t riotously crazily excitingly busy, but give me a break, I’ve only been back 24 hours.

Tomorrow is Shoot Day 1 of the Youth Theatre film shoot, which will go at the head of the show and is shaping up to be a draining but rewarding day, followed by a hectic week of organisation for Laughter For Life, which is now only 2 weeks away and COMPLETELY sold out!

Hospitals are rubbish, but they do one thing really well: make you better.  So now I’m better – in fact, flying high on top form, better than I’ve been for an exceedingly long time – and I’m breaking out into the world of doing things, achieving things and really getting a kick out of life.

Nothing happens in hospital, but it’s all go when you’re out!