At this point a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
