This time last year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. 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, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
