Around this period a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. 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 celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, 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 poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
