Around this period a year ago, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but 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. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
