This time a year ago, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, 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, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently 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 directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
