At this point a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
