At this point a year ago, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, 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. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
