Around this period last year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler 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 mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating 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, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, found, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
