This time a year ago, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, 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 in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
