At this point the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, 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, simply to make conversation, I pondered 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. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
