Around this period a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what 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. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists 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 directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, located, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
