Around this period the previous year, I was filming a television show with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw 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 leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently 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 directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, found, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
