Around this period the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – 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 illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, 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, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
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, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
