At this point a year ago, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers 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 some do not? A question for another day.
The Response by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what 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 symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists 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 sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
