This time a year ago, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
