At this point a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – 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 firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
