At this point last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – 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 know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. 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, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
