At this point last year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
