At this point a year ago, I was filming a television show with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that 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 clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
