At this point the previous year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then 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 commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
