This time the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs 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. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked 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 until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I like 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 remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
