At this point the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered 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. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent 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. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very 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, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. 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 during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, 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.
