Around this period last year, I found myself on a TV programme 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’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
