This time the previous year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, 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, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers 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.
Their Take of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, 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, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
