This time the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, located, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
