These are strange and worrying times for everyone. We’re all living from day to day as the situation unfolds and we’re also way, way out of our comfort zones as we try to adjust.

One thing this dreadful virus has brought home to me is that the health of my family is more important than anything else in this life.

As a professional footballer and someone who, I hope, has always cared about people in the industry and their welfare, I know that in times like this, livelihoods and security comes under threat and the quicker we can get back to playing and the sooner the clubs’ cash begins flowing again, the better.

The clubs lower down the EFL are particularly vulnerable and it is an incredibly difficult situation in which we find ourselves because nobody knows what is going to happen.

Our domestic football has been suspended until the end of April now but, beyond that, there is nothing definite.

Everything is up in the air, but me wondering about when and how we will be training means little really, up against the people in this country who are, like the NHS workers, on the front line every day, or the cab driver who is worrying about where his next fare is coming from.

I just want to say I take my hat off to the doctors, the nurses and everyone else who works in the NHS and I hope the Government and the people appreciate what they do for us.

I know I — and many others — are fortunate to live in a ‘bubble’ where you take so many things for granted. That bubble has been well and truly punctured, though, and now we have to forget our selfish ways and help the elderly, the vulnerable and the sick of our society and help minimise the effects of this illness.

I can only try to imagine what it is like at the moment for an elderly person who lives on their own. We all need to chip in and help.

Fortunately, my family are okay. Like so many others, we’ve spent a lot of time indoors and this week I was out in the garden, having a kick around with my son, Lenny, and trying to do as much as possible to keep him active.

The schools shut their gates today and normally, during the holidays, you would take them out bowling or to the cinema. With those places shut down, though, they are going to be at home for the bulk of the time.

Things are changing every day in my profession — just like in many other ones — and at the time of writing this column I don’t know when we will be back together and training as a squad.

At West Ham, after the training ground was shut down, we were given individual fitness plans which included runs on the treadmill and in the local park.

We have an app on which we have to forward our results.

That’s as much as we can do at the moment, but in no way does that replicate training with the ball.

I’ve been on the treadmill at home and my wife, Carly, and I have done a bit of boxing, nothing serious I would add — and I am not going to say who won!

It’s been only a week and, to be honest, there have been times during a long season when you crave a few days off, just to help with the aches and pains — but the reality is that, after a couple of days, you actually feel you’re seizing up because the body is so tuned to regular training.

My back has started to feel sore and I’ve suffered some nerve pain, but I know that will go when I’m back in proper training.

You get used to your routine and while I have a wife and two children, it must be incredibly difficult for other players, perhaps on their own and in a foreign country. The West Ham players have a group chat thing going, so I’ve been speaking to quite a few of the boys this week.

I don’t think any of us realised it was going to be this serious until the last few days, when the Government have begun to announce more severe measures to try to deal with this virus.

As players, we know that, at some point, we are going to have to be back training and then playing again but, beyond that, we are just waiting and watching for developments.

The training ground has undergone a deep clean, but we don’t know whether we will be able to use the facilities or just turn up and go straight onto the pitch. We’ll find out in due course.

What really concerns me far more than our training regime, though, are people, their health and their jobs.

In Pictures | The Premier League games still be played 11 show all In Pictures | The Premier League games still be played 1/11 Stamford Bridge | Chelsea Getty Images 2/11 St James' Park | Newcastle REUTERS 3/11 Amex Stadium | Brighton The Amex Stadium, Brighton PA 4/11 Villa Park | Aston Villa Villa Park | Aston Villa Action Images via Reuters 5/11 Emirates Stadium | Arsenal Action Images via Reuters 6/11 Bramall Lane | Sheffield United Action Images via Reuters 7/11 Old Trafford | Manchester United AP 8/11 London Stadium | West Ham Getty Images 9/11 Vicarage Road | Watford PA 10/11 Carrow Road | Norwich Action Images via Reuters 11/11 Etihad Stadium | Man City PA 1/11 Stamford Bridge | Chelsea Getty Images 2/11 St James' Park | Newcastle REUTERS 3/11 Amex Stadium | Brighton The Amex Stadium, Brighton PA 4/11 Villa Park | Aston Villa Villa Park | Aston Villa Action Images via Reuters 5/11 Emirates Stadium | Arsenal Action Images via Reuters 6/11 Bramall Lane | Sheffield United Action Images via Reuters 7/11 Old Trafford | Manchester United AP 8/11 London Stadium | West Ham Getty Images 9/11 Vicarage Road | Watford PA 10/11 Carrow Road | Norwich Action Images via Reuters 11/11 Etihad Stadium | Man City PA

With that in mind, I’m going to donate the fees for my Evening Standard columns this season to the Newham Foodbank, a fantastic charity helping to feed the most vulnerable and at risk local people in east London.

At this difficult time, they need our help more than ever.

One final thing. One of the possibilities when we return is that we play some Premier League games behind closed doors.

I wrote in last week’s column that I wouldn’t ideally want that, but with so much income provided by broadcasters such as Sky, all of whom would televise the matches, if that helps people in the clubs to keep their jobs, I would happily play in an empty stadium.