Around this period the previous year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, 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 did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, 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. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
