At this point last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
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 before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
