This time a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. 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, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic 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. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
