It was so virulent it swept through our household in a matter of days and a week later is still affecting our energy levels, leaving us all feeling weak and with little appetite for food.

The maternal instinct to care for your children when they are ill is always there no matter how old they get. As our strapping 17-year-old lay on the sofa clutching his stomach in pain, I desperately wanted to fuss over him but was too weak to even get out of bed.

I hold the boys' school responsible as I'm sure it's the source of every cough and cold we ever suffer from, spread by all those unhealthy little urchins running around in the playground sharing out all manner of nasty things from nits to influenza.

It was our youngest who brought this dreadful bug home on the school bus. He spent two days in bed but seemed to bounce back relatively quickly. But in the meantime, our middle son managed to catch it from him.

We were awoken by the poor boy at 4am as he was on his way down to the bathroom on the ground floor. Unfortunately he didn't make it and emptied the contents of his stomach down the full length of the stairs.

As I stood bleary-eyed on the top step in my slippers, it dawned on me that my only option was to pick my way barefoot through the mess in order to get to the kitchen to get a bowl of disinfectant to clear it all up.

More than a week later, there is still a small hint of an aroma there, despite me liberally spraying, scrubbing and shampooing the contents of several cans of cleaning fluid into the carpet.

A day after this, I caught the bug and 12 hours later the eldest was hit with it too.

Throughout it all my husband remained hale and hearty, which was of little use to me as, like most men, he is completely lacking in the nursing skills or sympathy department.

My only comfort is that hopefully we have all now built up some immunity for the cold months ahead and will have a healthy winter.