This time the previous year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. 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, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm 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 adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, found, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.