This time last year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds 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 – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. 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 commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. 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. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
