This time last year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating 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 approached it with great diligence. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, located, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
