Around this period last year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free 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 since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, 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 felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
