This time last year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, 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, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me 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 studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully 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 throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
