This time last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
