Around this period the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. 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 everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
