This time last year, I ended up participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, 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, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – 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 illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently 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 apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
