Around this period the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th 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 pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
