At this point last year, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. 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. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently 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 commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
