This time last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. First, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs 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 nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. 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.
