This time last year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, 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, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
