Around this period last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, found, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
