This time last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Response by the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs 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. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs 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. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, located, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
