Around this period the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. 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, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common 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 Reaction by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
