This time last year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
