This time a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party 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 question for another day.
The Response of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then 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 instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
