Around this period a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, 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 almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
