This time last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime 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 ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – 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 nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
