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 big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response by the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
