THIS week has not been the week we thought it would be. Greg has had a really tough time on his chemo regime recently; the intense fatigue and sores in his throat have been so bad that it was decided that he would have a week off treatment to give his body time to recuperate. We envisaged a week of laid-back lunches, trips to Waterstones to drink coffee, leisurely reading books and time with the girls.

Instead, during our first day of chemo freedom, things took a turn for the worse. We were one mouthful into a beautiful Thai lunch when Greg said he couldn’t eat any more and needed to go home. Stupidly, I wolfed down both our lunches and then started to feel sick in the car. Instead of the sickness being the food, we both fell into a full-on stomach bug that has left us bed-bound for most of the week. The girls had to be packed off to my parents’ house while Greg and I have been able to do no more than lie in silence and watch Netflix documentaries.

It’s a strange feeling to be ill yourself when you are normally the person caring for the ill. I wrestled with opposing feelings: one of frustration because I can’t do anything for anyone but at the same time, relishing the feeling of not having to do anything. I realised that when I stop, everything stops. The important paperwork that needs to be found who knows where in our house to sort out the wedding, the water company – which seems to harass me daily at the moment – the rearranging of hospital appointments, the empty fridge... none of this has been looked at.

As I’m slowly starting to come out of my illness fog, it’s left me thinking about other carers and also single parents who shoulder all responsibilities. On good days, this can be hard but on even slightly difficult days, let alone ones where you can’t move for fear of throwing up, this weight can seem unbearable. This isn’t a woe-is-me statement, more of an acknowledgement to go easy on myself and accept that I am enough.

After three full days in bed and a stomach that’s still gurgling, I’m just about to pick the girls up from my parents. Wish me luck.

l Stacey Heale has put her career as a fashion lecturer on hold to focus on her two lively little girls and fiancé, Delays frontman Greg Gilbert, who was diagnosed with stage 4 bowel cancer in November 2016. She launched the viral campaign Give4Greg to raise funds for lifesaving treatment: gofundme.com/give4greg. You can read more at her blog beneaththeweather.com