With every push-notification news alert about coronavirus, it’s natural to feel more anxious. But what actions should we be taking to keep our friends, families and loved ones safe? We spoke to some high-profile medical professionals and scientists to find out how they are adapting their daily routines. Because if we should follow anyone’s lead, it should be the experts.

Rosena Allin-Khan … ‘I always try to use hand gel before shaking the next hand.’ Photograph: Danny Lawson/PA

‘I’m trying to avoid shaking hands as much as possible’

Dr Rosena Allin-Khan, MP for Tooting and candidate for deputy Labour leader

As someone with a background in A&E medicine, I’m very careful about hand hygiene anyway. Now, when I get home, I put my clothes into the laundry basket and wash my hands before hugging the kids. I’ve been talking to my kids a lot about handwashing: we sing Happy Birthday twice while washing our hands at home, and I’ve drilled it into them that they need to be doing the same at school.

MPs on the campaign trail are exactly the sort of people who could be super-spreaders, so I’m being extra-careful. I’m trying to avoid shaking hands as much as possible, although sometimes it’s difficult not to: if someone comes up to you, says they’re supporting you and sticks out their hand, of course you shake it because you don’t want to be rude. But I always try to use hand gel before shaking the next person’s hand. I find the government’s proposal to bring in retired doctors to address the staffing shortfall mind-boggling. Those are the exact people who are in the age group that makes them vulnerable to coronavirus.

‘Panic buying isn’t helpful. We all need to get on with life’

Prof David Lalloo, director of the Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine

I’m travelling a lot at the moment, and am much more conscious of washing my hands. A big thing for me is trying not to touch my face, eyes and mouth. It’s hard to avoid it – it’s a natural human response, and we all do it.

I haven’t cancelled any holiday or work-travel plans, but I’m monitoring the situation. My plans may change if the epidemic continues. Face masks aren’t necessary in my opinion unless you’re a healthcare worker in close contact with infected individuals. If you are just out and about, you’re unlikely to be in close enough contact with someone for enough time to be infected by respiratory droplets.

It’s important that we don’t allow concern to overtake common sense. There’s no doubt that this could be a nasty epidemic in the UK, but panic buying isn’t helpful. We all need to get on with normal life as much as possible.

Dr Dominic Pimenta … ‘I’m wearing a respiratory mask.’ Photograph: Image supplied by Dr Dominic Pimenta

‘On the tube, I lean against the wall at the end of the carriage’

Dr Dominic Pimenta, cardiologist and author of Parts

My sister had a cold recently, so we cancelled a family gathering, just to be on the safe side – I have two kids and elderly relatives.

When I’m on the tube, I don’t touch anything. I lean against the wall at the end of the carriage. I’m also wearing a respiratory mask because I’m a bit of a face toucher. I carry alcohol-based hand sanitiser around with me. When I get home from work, I put my clothes in the wash and wash my hands before I hug the kids.

This attitude that you don’t need to worry about coronavirus if you are young and healthy because it only affects older and infirm people is really irresponsible. These people are your mum, your dad and your friends who are going through cancer treatment. Washing your hands has a huge impact on how the virus can spread.

I think the government has prioritised managing the economy over the public-health side of things. If we’re blase about things, it’s easier for the virus to spread. It’s not extreme or silly to be taking precautions. I appreciate that we don’t want to create panic. But telling people to wash their hands is a basic thing – and hopefully won’t cause panic.

‘I went for a coffee with my dad, and we chatted about death’

Molly Case, nurse specialist and author of How to Treat People: A Nurse at Work

As a nurse, one of the things that you have drilled into you during training is handwashing. As a student, you would wash your hands and somebody would shine a UV light on you afterwards to show the dirt left behind. So I haven’t adapted my behaviour because I’m already an expert at handwashing.

The only positive thing to come out of coronavirus is that it has opened up important conversations. My dad is 82. I went for a coffee with him recently, and we chatted about death and how he would want to die, which is always a conversation worth having. But my dad is a sturdy RAF veteran. I’m not too worried.

Molly Case … ‘My dad is a sturdy RAF veteran. I’m not too worried.’ Photograph: Sonja Horsman/The Observer

I have a four-month-old baby and I took her to the GP recently, and was quite keen for people not to touch her, but I would be that way anyway.

We’re going on holiday to Malta later this month. I’m not planning on changing any of our travel plans, unless the situation changes.

‘I’m not going to lock myself in a sealed room until Christmas’

Dr Adam Kay, author of This Is Going to Hurt and Twas the Nightshift Before Christmas

The situation isn’t great. I don’t think we’re scaremongering about the dangers of coronavirus. If anything, I think the situation has been underplayed. Very few NHS professionals believe the NHS can cope if half the country ends up infected. This is an NHS that is already working at capacity. It doesn’t have a buffer. It has been treading water for a decade.

Adam Kay … ‘I don’t think we’re scaremongering.’ Photograph: Andy Hall/The Observer

People are saying: “Oh well, it will only affect the elderly and the unwell.” Where’s the compassion? Go through your phone book, and think about everyone in there who is elderly. Think about your friends who are immunosuppressed due to chemotherapy. I’m prepared to roll the dice myself: there’s a 97% chance I’ll live so I’m not going to lock myself in a sealed room until Christmas. But the modifications I’m making to my life, I’m doing for those people.

I’m using hand gel, often, and I’ve stopped shaking hands. I’m also trying to do some social distancing: putting space between myself and other people in public seems like a sensible idea.

Sarah Jarvis … ‘I suggested individual cups for communion wine.’ Photograph: Image provided by Dr Sarah Jarvis

‘In church, everyone shakes hands. We’ve been waving instead’

Dr Sarah Jarvis, GP and clinical director of the online appointment-booking system patientaccess.com

I’m using a paper towel to open doors. And I would rather walk around with wet hands than use a communal towel to dry my hands. I’m also making more of an effort to clean my phone. I gave up handshaking and cheek-kissing a few weeks ago. I don’t kiss anyone now apart from my husband and my kids.

I rang up the vicar at my local church and asked: “What are you doing about coronavirus?” He gave me the Church of England spiel, and I said: “I don’t think that’s acceptable.” So I strong-armed him a little bit because the people at my church tend to be older. Usually when you share the peace with the congregation, everyone shakes hands, but we’ve been waving at each other instead. I’ve stopped taking communion. I suggested having individual cups for the communion wine, but they didn’t go for it.

I’m still visiting my father, who is 93, but my family is absolutely obsessive about washing our hands before we see him. I have been thinking about whether it’s wise for the young children in our family to visit him because we know that children are super-spreaders of flu. But I think it’s too early at this point to stop visiting elderly relatives. If we ask people to stop visiting their grandparents now, and it’s eight months before we get the epidemic under control, that’s a long time for them to go without visitors.

‘If I reach 80 and a coronavirus kills me, I won’t complain’

Dr Phil Hammond, NHS doctor, comedian and Private Eye’s medical correspondent

I haven’t changed anything in my personal daily routine. No masks, no extra gels, no changes in my travel, recreation or work schedule. As a comedian, I do a lot about the meaning of life, to love and be loved, which involves the audience in consensual hugging. They now do consensual foot-shakes, and any show of affection that does not involve rubbing together moist mucous membranes.

Personally, I think I’m laughing more. Laughter is the best medicine unless you have syphilis, in which case it’s penicillin. As there are no drugs for coronavirus, and nowhere near enough intensive care unit (ITU) beds for prolonged intubation, I think laughter will become increasingly important, and it’s certainly more useful than panic.

If I reach 80 and a new coronavirus kills me, I won’t complain and I wouldn’t want prolonged intubation on ITU. Doctors generally want less intervention and good end-of-life pain relief when they get old and seriously ill. We haven’t got many ITU beds, so getting people to say in advance whether they would want prolonged intubation or not might help the inevitable rationing process. Maybe the upside of coronavirus is that it will get us talking about death in a grownup way.

‘I have four children … I’m not remotely concerned on their behalf’

Dr Gabriel Weston, Author of Direct Red: A Surgeon’s Story

I’m definitely washing my hands more often. After the gym, I wash them straight away or when I get home – not because I’m particularly worried, but because it’s a sensible thing to do.

I have four children between the ages of six and 16. I’m not remotely concerned on their behalf. I’ve said to them: “Do not come home from school!”

The only thing at the back of my mind is that there may come a time when, as NHS staff, we’re asked to work more than our usual hours. I’m thinking about how I might be able to schedule that into my life, were I needed to help out at the hospital on that front. But I’m not remotely concerned and my behaviour hasn’t changed at all – other than the handwashing.

Kevin Fong … ‘You have to think about the weakest people in society.’ Photograph: Nils Jorgensen/Rex/Shutterstock

‘I’m not avoiding elderly relatives, but I am being mindful of vulnerable people’

Dr Kevin Fong, broadcaster and author of Extremes: How Far Can You Go to Save a Life?

I haven’t changed my routine much. I’m probably taking a bit longer over washing my hands, but I’m reasonably good at doing that anyway. I know it’s boring to keep saying: “Wash your hands.” People want us to say something dramatic, but that does work.

I’m not avoiding elderly relatives, but I am being mindful of people who are vulnerable. This collective shrug of “well, it won’t affect me” is an interesting attitude. We all have a collective duty. You have to think about the weakest people in society, and how you can protect them with your behaviour. It’s pretty cynical to think that just because you’re in the group of people least likely to get infected with coronavirus, it’s not a big deal.

It’s really important that we listen to the advice coming out of Public Health England. At the moment it’s clear, and there’s no need for any further modification than that, really.

‘We may take over my father’s care worker’s responsibilities’

Dr Saleyha Ahsan, journalist and broadcaster

I have an elderly father with asthma, and another close relative has had a kidney transplant and is immunocompromised. Whatever information I’m gleaning from my hospital authorities, I’m passing on to my family, whether it’s information about what you should do if you’ve been exposed to a person with coronavirus or what areas to stay away from.

My father normally has a care worker who comes to visit him at home. My siblings and I have been wondering if we should ask them to stop coming until the epidemic dies down. We haven’t decided yet – we’re watching to see how the situation unfolds. If it looks as if there are more cases in London, where he lives, we’ll take over the care worker’s responsibilities ourselves.

I’m feeling the need to skip the tube. Next time I’m in London, I’ll probably get a cab or walk.

Jonathan D Quick … ‘I turn off the tap with the back of my hand.’ Photograph: Keith Morris/Hay Ffotos/Alamy

‘When I’m flying, I wipe down the tray tables and seat backs’

Prof Jonathan Quick, author of The End of Epidemics

I just cancelled a cycling holiday in Tuscany in June. I’d been watching the spread of the virus through Italy and keeping an eye on all the official warnings. I held out as long as possible, but it became apparent that the epidemic wasn’t under control in northern Italy.

When I’m flying, I wipe down the tray tables and seat backs with antibacterial wipes. I’m extremely vigilant in aeroplane washrooms because a place like that with heavy traffic is likely to have respiratory droplets left behind. I turn off the tap with the back of my hand and use a paper towel to open the door to get out. I’ve noticed in the UK that you don’t tend to have paper towels in public bathrooms, so I’d advise people to carry handkerchiefs, so they don’t have to touch door handles.

I’m advising everyone to base their decision-making on information from the official public-health bodies. Their core concern is keeping the public safe. They don’t have any hidden agendas.