Around this period the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
