This time a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs 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. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. 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. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed 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 preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, found, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
