At this point last year, I was filming a television show with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief 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 cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. 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 sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
