This time last year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, 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 don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, found, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
