At this point last year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, 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, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. 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 indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone 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 ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.