At this point a year ago, 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 attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get 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. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
