This time the previous year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
