Around this period a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. 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. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, 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. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
