At this point the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
