At this point a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. 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 is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. 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 know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
