This time last year, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, 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, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I wondered 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.
The Reaction by the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which 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 since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues 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 sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
