At this point the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, found, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.