At this point a year ago, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. 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. It had been a good night, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response of the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. 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, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then 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 commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, found, and more. 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 now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
