Around this period last year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad 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. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
