At this point the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. 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 dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, found, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
