Around this period a year ago, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered 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? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully 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 sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
