Around this period a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast 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. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
