At this point last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, 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 others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, 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, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
