This time last year, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
