Around this period a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting 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, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
