At this point the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Trio
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. 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 which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
