At this point the previous year, I found myself 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. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “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 fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then 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 instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, found, 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 leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
