Around this period the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. 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 poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully 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 sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, 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 post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
