At this point the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response of the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
