While many people s waistlines expanded due to the worry and restrictions imposed by the coronavirus pandemic, my main problem was the effect it had on my face.
For some reason, it seemed to make me age more rapidly than usual. Almost from the very moment the first lockdown was announced back in March last year, my eyebags began to grow, additional wrinkles formed on my forehead, and my cheeks started to sag.
Even my complexion, once boastfully blemish free with a healthy golden glow, became pallid and dull. I put it down to the stress of having to juggle looking after my four-year-old son at home while still trying to work, not to mention being stuck indoors almost 24 hours a day.
It started with a text message. ‘Please pick-up. Very important’. It was a Tuesday afternoon in late October, and I’d been working with my phone on silent – I hadn’t noticed the four missed calls from my ex-partner, John.
My stomach lurched. John had been looking after our four-year-old son, Milo for the past few days. Had he been in an accident? I called him. ‘I’ve just tested positive for coronavirus,’ he blurted. ‘I have to self-isolate, so my dad is going to drop Milo back off at your house in the next hour.’
It was the last thing I was expecting him to say – and the start of a six-week ordeal in which my son and I first tested negative, then days later positive.