At this point the previous year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone 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, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, located, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
