Around this period the previous year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, 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, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave 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 his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
