Around this period the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
