This time the previous year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, 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.
