Around this period a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – 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 colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
