At this point the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand 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 don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
