This time a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists 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 directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
