At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, 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, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
