Around this period a year ago, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” 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. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
