Around this period last year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – 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. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
