This time last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. 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 janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently 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 instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
