Around this period last year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm 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 very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
