At this point last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Included were 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. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then 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 during the cold months based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
