Around this period last year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
