Around this period the previous year, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, 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, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully 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 sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
