This time a year ago, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
