At this point the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
