This time last year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, 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, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
