This time a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
