At this point a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. 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 janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully 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 directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, 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. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
