This time the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th 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 wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, 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 unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled 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
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
