At this point a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this 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 – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. 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, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star 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 use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
