Around this period the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
