At this point the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a 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? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
