This time last year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs 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 illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing 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 help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, 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, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. 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.
