Around this period the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. 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’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, found, etc. 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. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
