Around this period the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
