Around this period a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. 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, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. 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 sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
