Around this period a year ago, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – 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 know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
