Around this period a year ago, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. 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 since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
