At this point a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
