Around this period a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
