This time a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
