This time the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
