At this point a year ago, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession 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'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
