At this point last year, I was filming a television show with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, 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 felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists 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 during the cold months based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
