This time last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. 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 cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, located, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
