Around this period the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone 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 one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. 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 the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
