This time last year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what 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 illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, located, and more. 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, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
