This time last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. 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 indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
