Around this period the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. 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. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, 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 giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. 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, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
