Around this period last year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. 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. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application 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 numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
