This time last year, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, found, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. 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.
