At this point last year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, 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 his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
