At this point last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
