Around this period the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
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 before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
