This time last year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – 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 illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw 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 Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
