Around this period a year ago, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
