This time last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Trio
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, found, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
