At this point a year ago, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, 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 as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
