This time the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – 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 nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
