At this point the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. 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 as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – 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 same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, found, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
