For some reason this is my clearest memory from my childhood: I was 6 and quite ill with chest problems, and my parents had bought a vaporizer to help me breathe. It was like a metal lamp with an opening on the front where you put the tealight, and a small dish on the top for the liquid. On each side of main opening were two small vertical slits. I remember lying in my bedroom in the dark, listening to the muffled sound of the TV coming from downstairs as I watched the light from the slits dancing on the wall, the room filled with the strangely pleasant smell of the vaporizer. Even though my parents were downstairs in another room I remember feeling a sense of comfort knowing they were there. It was probably the last time I ever felt something like that. Such is life