At this point last year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
