This time last year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. 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 players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – 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 firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, located, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
