Around this period the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, 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, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
