At this point last year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand 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 lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, 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 know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
