This time the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, 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, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. 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 can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
