This time a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, 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 grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. 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 have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled 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 leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
