Around this period a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand 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 symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
