At this point last year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. 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. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
