Around this period the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs 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 symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances 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. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, 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 that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then 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 was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
