Around this period last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
