This time a year ago, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, 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 part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, 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 leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
