At this point last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, 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 as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
