This time last year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which 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 directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
