Around this period last year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. 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, simply to make conversation, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers 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.
The Response of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – 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, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation in addition, 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 into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. 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, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
