Around this period last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. 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 all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
