At this point last year, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. 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 which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, found, and more. 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. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
