How did you go from a career in palliative care to standup comedy?
I had a bit of a midlife crisis. I was being with people while they were dying, and I kind of lost all sensitivity for it. That’s when I realised that I’d come to the end of that career. I always wanted to do something creative, but wasn’t really sure how. I tried writing a book, then standup – and realised that’s what I wanted to do.

The show discusses craft projects with loved ones’ ashes …
People are doing some really weird stuff with them. People are getting ashes tattooed into them and people eat them, put them in a chilli.

What’s been one of your all-time favourite gigs?
I’ve supported some really great comedians on tour, like Deirdre O’Kane. But I think my favourite gig was a work-in-progress show I did in Leek a few years ago. You start from the bottom and when you get to a point when you’re in a full room, it’s a really nice thing. Leek is right by my home town of Stoke so it felt like I was going home and it was such a gorgeous gig.

You were a winner on The Traitors in 2022. What’s the question that you’re asked most often about it?
Usually fans ask if me and Wilf are still friends, which we absolutely are. Filming The Traitors was one of the most traumatic experiences I’ve had – in a fun way. You never saw it on the show but in between filming we laughed loads. We all got on so well we would absolutely howl with laughter. Then the next thing you know we were sat around a table accusing people of murder. If you know the comedy circuit at all, it’s pretty much the same as The Traitors.

Has being known for The Traitors ever actively worked against you on stage?
I haven’t actually ever been heckled about it. So if anybody wants to, please do. I don’t think people really know it’s me, or they don’t put the two together. I don’t think it helped me in comedy at all because bookers and other comedians were just like, “Oh, you went on TV and you think you can do gigs, huh?” But I’d started comedy and gone full-time just before The Traitors. Everybody was kind of like: “You’ve got to earn your stripes.” So it didn’t help me in terms of getting better or nicer gigs, but I think it kind of helped me become a better comedian.

Can you recall a gig so bad that it’s now funny?
The worst gig I ever had was in Skegness. There was about 20 people just staring at me the whole time. I was so bad, and my watch timer hadn’t started so I didn’t know how long I’d done. I did my normal 20 but in 13 minutes. By the time I came off, the MC wasn’t even back at the side of the stage yet. Horrific.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever been given?
That nobody else cares. No matter what it is in life, nobody cares. If you’re at the beach and you don’t like the way you look, or if you said something or have done something … nobody cares. Everyone cares about themselves more than they care about you.

Do you have any preshow rituals?
I try not to think about my set too much because I can get in my own head about it. I’ll usually just go and have a cigarette.

Who is your comedy hero and why?
People like Alan Carr and Daisy May Cooper, just because they’re inherently funny. I don’t really care about a joke’s structure or anything like that … I just want them to be funny.

What’s a joke you’re convinced is brilliant, but just doesn’t land with audiences?
I tried a bit recently where I confused the abbreviation for cocktail, which is cocky-T, and the bird cockatoo. When I wrote that, I thought: there’s no way that this is going to fail. I’ve yet to meet an audience that laughs.

• Hannah Byczkowski: Killer is at Gilded Balloon Teviot, Edinburgh, 5-30 August