Around this period last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
