Around this period last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, 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. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, 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 clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then 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 approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, 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 prepared to combat.
