Around this period a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Trio
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession 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. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
