Woke up at five thirty AM. I know it was five thirty because my wife said, "Al, it's 5:30, wake up".  So, Day eight began in a rush again, quick shower, bowl of porridge, run for the bus...

But the bus stopped just behind an ambulance spread across the road to stop traffic and keep rubberneckers away from a fatal traffic accident.  We walked ten minutes back to the tube station and took the tube instead.  Trouble is, Belsize Park had no service running, so we took the tube to Euston, and then a 168 bus.  We arrived ten minutes early with the doors already open.

The treatment itself went well, apart from the low temperature of the room where the machine is, and the fact that they left the radio on, which pisses me off because it interferes with my attempts to sing in order to time the treatment.  Normally Babylon if Fallen, followed by Bella Ciao is enough to tell me it's time to get up.

I was relaxed anyway but, by the end, of course, had to rush to the toilet and piss before even tying my shoelaces.  We were home by about eleven thirty, which is pretty impressive in my view.  London Transport, you've done well.