Around this period a year ago, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. 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 in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
