At this point last year, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession 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. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, 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, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently 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 approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, located, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
