At this point a year ago, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated 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, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. 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 followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
