Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” 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. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
