At this point a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party 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 by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
