Around this period a year ago, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
