At this point last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. 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 lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
