Around this period a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. 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 cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
