At this point a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – 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 colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, 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 preventive product up each nostril – 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 solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
