This time the previous year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, 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. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
