Around this period last year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. 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 somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation 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 adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, found, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle 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 re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
