This time a year ago, I was filming a television show with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, 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, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees 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 by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, 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, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” 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. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
