This time the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand 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. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. 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 be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently 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 clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
