Around this period a year ago, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
