At this point the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, 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’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
