At this point the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers 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 don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
