At this point last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
