This time last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, 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 in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what 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 illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. 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. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
