Around this period last year, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. 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 indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. 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. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
