At this point the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to use hand gel hourly 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 – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
