This time last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – 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 illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
