At this point the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, 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 became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, 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 was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
