This time a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. 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 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 contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists 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 apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, found, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
