At this point the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response by the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. 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 janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
