At this point the previous year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, 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 have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation 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 – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, located, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
