This time last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers 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 since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. 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 took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues 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 during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
