At this point the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response of the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues 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 for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, located, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
