At this point last year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
