At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, 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, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
