Around this period last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling 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 help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach 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, fail to help. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
