This time last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
