This time the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. 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 wondered ways to dodge the common 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, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. 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, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
