At this point the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. 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, but now, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, 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, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
