Around this period the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. 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, but now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances 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 studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, 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’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
