At this point a year ago, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
