At this point a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. 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, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent 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, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. 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 was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
