Around this period last year, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. 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. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent 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, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. 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 in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
