Around this period the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
