Around this period a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. 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 had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, 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. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic 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. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, found, and so on. 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. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
