At this point a year ago, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, 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? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. 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 lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
