This time last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief 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's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
