This time a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away 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 studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they all work for a while 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's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
