This time the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, located, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
