At this point a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, 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. 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 the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
