At this point the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that 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 as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
