This time a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues 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, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, found, etc. 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 now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
