At this point the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, 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 have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
