This time a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. 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 was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
