Last week, our family was launched into turmoil when my brother was struck down with appendicitis.

One minute he was lying on the sofa watching a Gavin and Stacey DVD for the 16th time, getting what we thought was just another day off school, and the next he was being rushed to hospital in relentless pain.

Since then, he's been throwing up in Bristol children's hospital with several broken televisions, enough "get well" cards to set up a business and more grapes than a greengrocer.

All this means I've had to show independence. With no parents to cook, wash clothes, escort me everywhere and, worst of all, get me up in the morning, it's turned out to be a bit of a wake-up call.

The idea of forward planning has never really concerned me as, if I wanted something to eat, it would always be there in the fridge.

Instead of throwing myself in front of the telly when I get home, I've had to buy and then cook ingredients to feed whichever family members happen to be around.

I've cooked chicken in an apricot sauce, spaghetti Bolognese and, OK, frozen pizzas once or twice.

One thing I've really become aware of is how often the telephone rings. Up until last week, it hadn't really got under my bonnet as I'd just leave it for someone else to deal with, but I've got so many messages to pass on that I feel like a pigeon.

I've really enjoyed being trusted with looking after my younger sister. I've almost felt like a father, picking her up from school, piano, friends' houses and helping with homework.

Helping in these ways, I think, has caused people inadvertently to see me in a more grown-up light. I could never have imagined how much enjoyment I've got from what are, at the end of the day, chores.

I've had to remember times and dates for myself rather than just relying on my mum nagging me. In that sense, it's quite refreshing. But my brain – which usually shuts off at 3.20pm – probably hasn't found it quite so enjoyable.

I've had to take responsibility for not only my own but other people's washing, and have discovered the joys of a washing machine rather than just chucking my stuff in a wash bin and hoping that it will magically turn up three days later washed, dried, ironed and ready to wear.

Instead of using my parents for a taxi service, I've had to walk places or actively seek ways of getting around, and it's surprised me how easy it is.

I think that because of the independence I've gained, I'm now becoming protective of my duties. I've actually stopped other people Hoovering; it's as if I've been turned into a domestic goddess (but I don't think I should spread that around).

Although I'd quite like my brother back home, I've actually enjoyed the responsibilities that have come with him being away, although I also miss the typical lounging around that we teenagers should be doing.

There have been perks, such as relatives baking cakes, teachers talking to me like an adult and no one turning the football over on the telly.

ends