Around this period a year ago, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, located, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
