Around this period the previous year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
