At this point a year ago, I was filming a television show with three singers. Present 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’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. 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 spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. 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 apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
