At this point a year ago, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, 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, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
