This time last year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, 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 am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
