This time the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
