Last week was my fifth infusion of Intragram . Even though I was told it would get easier as the months wore on, it hasn't. The days afterwards are still a lot like you'd imagine the after effects of colliding with a Mac truck would be, with at least one day on the bath room tiles surfing waves of nausea. This time around was my kind of weather - a classic hot summer day, the school holidays and the bliss of retreating into a cool, still home afterwards. Archie had had his birthday party the weekend before at "Tunzafun" - little boy heaven with dodgems, laser tag (whatever that is), and unlimited games - and all the presents he'd received from invitees were still strewn over the lounge room floor. He is still spending hours playing blissfully constructing, sorting, building etc. Before long, with myself parked on the lounge just watching him idly, no thoughts about what I needed to get up and do next, a sense of contentment had come over the room. For the...