Around this period a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, 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, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, 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. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
