At this point a year ago, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction from the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, located, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
