Around this period last year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, 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. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. 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. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
