At this point the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce 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 preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
