Around this period last year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, 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, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. 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, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant 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. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
