At this point a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, 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 felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star 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 apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
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, bought again, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
