At this point a year ago, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, 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. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers 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 topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, 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, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
