At this point last year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers 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. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, 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 return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
