I had a bit of a reality check last week. All my ideas of juggling work and family life came crashing down on top of me when I ended up in hospital.

Having battled for months with pain, I finally succumbed to needing proper medical attention and found myself quickly being admitted to Belfast City Hospital.

Despite the constant bad press, I couldn't fault the care and attention I received there — in particular, the dedication and hard work of the nursing staff, who work under massive pressure and with little resources.

Still, the fact remains that from the second I got there, I just wanted to be home again.

Suddenly, all the things I have been grappling with in the last few months were all taken out of my hands. I didn't have any control and I hated it.

I knew I needed to be in hospital and that it was the best place for me to be, but suddenly I was very dependent on others.

I was reliant on the medical staff for my healthcare, and dependant on Tom and his mum and dad and friends to ensure the boys were ok. Plus, I could only read work emails on my BlackBerry while helpless to do much but respond that I was out of action for a while.

I cried pretty much from when I went in on Monday until I begged to be discharged at the weekend. If I wasn't crying in pain, I was crying because I was missing the boys and Tom.

I have been in hospital before — having had three children and numerous operations this wasn't a new experience for me, but somehow this time it was harder to cope with than the others.

I hated that I wasn't able to be there for the boys in the morning or tuck them in at night — suddenly I longed for the madness and the chaos, the noise and the mayhem that often drives me to distraction when I am at home.

I was endlessly texting Tom saying ‘remember swimming’, ‘don't forget to sign homeworks’, ‘SU today’.

His retort that everything was under control just made me feel even more sorry for myself — the world, well my wee corner of it, seemed like it could survive perfectly well without me. Then there was all that time to think — and panic about things like Christmas coming and how unorganised I am, that Korey needs new trainers and they all should visit the dentist and get their hair cut.

I felt guilty then, too, that I had let myself get so sick that I needed hospitalisation and that took me away from being a mummy.

However, everyone made it to school as normal every day, homeworks were done and checked, favourite TV programmes were watched and the bedtime routine was fulfilled. And Jesse even managed a haircut in my absence.

But when Korey, my eight-year-old, the quiet, deep thinking one of my boys sent me a simple text message on Thursday night saying ‘I wish you were in the kitchen to make my supper’, it was enough to crush my heart.

When he was finally allowed to visit, he lay on the bed beside me almost squashing me with his embrace and refusing to move — and I knew then I had been missed.

Meanwhile, Teo as usual found mischief even in the most confined spaces and tried several times to catapult me from my bed and set off the buzzer for the nurse more than once.

Jesse, while glad to see me, revealed after all of about 10 minutes that hospitals were boring ...

Maybe that's why they finally let me go home — the thought of another visit from the Knox trio was too much for the staff to bear.

I am home now — and within a few hours an almighty row broke out over nothing as usual and Tom wasn't around. I momentarily longed for the solace of the tiny room in the City.

The boys have made a ‘things to do list’ for when ‘mummy is better’ and number one is jumping on the trampoline with them — something I haven't been able to do for months due to back pain.

When I arrived home late on Saturday night, Teo thought I would automatically be able to go trampolining with him — I had to explain that while I am home I am still waiting for tests and not quite ready for the high jump just yet.

But I have decided that while I wait — despite all the mummy stuff, not to mention work stuff I have to catch up on — there really is no place like home and I don't ever want to take it for granted again.