At this point the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Trio
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
