I've thought about this a lot and asked why the accident happened. I fell over during the first song, "Looking up the moon", which is performed in a spotlight, I missed my step and fell into the front row and cracked my coccyx. I went backstage to recover and was given something for the pain but not something that would knock me out I returned to the stage determined to finish the show. I still hadn't caught up with myself the next night when I played Hamburg. I was pulled through by the spiritual and psychic force of people in Australia - it's really very bad manners to commit suicide in somebody else's country It made me very fond of them and them very fond of me. Even now there is a special atmosphere.After Sydney this time came the killer flight, Melbourne to London and 24 hours without a cigarette. In the hour stop-over in Bangkok I smoked almost enough to almost make me sick Pathetic but I made it.

When I arrived at Heathrow, I felt slightly weird and needed to rest but had to go and do a television show in Germany. I have had this big love affair with the Australians since the mishap in the Sixties in Sydney - my coma from taking 150 barbiturates There is this very intense bond because they saved my life. There were only three places in the world where they could have done that - Sydney, South Africa and probably America Anywhere else and I would have been dead. I think he believed that I had a lovely voice and was very musical - but I think he thought I'd thrown it away.

However, I've turned into a very good performer and I don't think he knew how good. I was so proud of him, I saw him out of context - away from the commune he has lived in since I was born It was lovely. Then there was Australia. The evening was terribly important to me, at least he now knows that it hasn't all been just effing about. He loved it - one of his favourite songs in the world is "Falling in Love Again" which I performed. He's not the complimenting type but in my family when people are very pleased there isn't much to say. Though I miss my mother terribly, it has made it easier with my father.

The great moment came at last, when my dad, stepmother and their children - seven Faithfulls in all sat in the audience. He's quite old now and looks like a character in a Beckett play I was so proud of him He was stunned and transfixed. The beginning, at the Almeida Theatre in London, was an amazing experience, because my dad came and he had never seen me perform before When my mother, Eva, was alive she always came to my shows. My parents had a very acrimonious divorce and Eva was shocking. She would say "Ahh so you going to see your father" in a disapproving voice, "sniff sniff" I felt disloyal, although I shouldn't have. I've learnt a hell of a lot about myself from the tour I have just finished. In many ways it was like a trip round myself - I went to places that were important to me and felt closer to my parents.

They took the stick that patients wouldn't dare give the doctor. Yet many GPs are unaware of what goes on out the front of shop. Once, when surgery was running half an hour late, I saw a female patient march up to the counter and yell, "Why doesn't Dr Morris get a fucking move on?" Remaining completely calm and in control, the receptionist picked up the phone and said "Dr Morris? Mrs Jenkins says `Why don't you get a fucking move on?'" Now that's how to handle aggression and educate the senior partner at the same time.*The vagus, since you ask.. Hardly a recipe for safety.So what can you do if you're trapped? A training programme that described "bash and dash" techniques provoked a media storm.