Around this period the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief 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. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. 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 clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
