At this point a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy 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 mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
