This time last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs 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 nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. 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 before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. 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 felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
