Around this period last year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, 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 one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, located, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
