This time a year ago, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me 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 before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. 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. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. 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 was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
