This time last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, 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 in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – 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 know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, 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, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while 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. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
