This time a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this 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 firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes 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.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, 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 showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully 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 commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
