Around this period the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common 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 others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation plus, 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 nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
