At this point the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession 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 illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed 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. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
