At this point a year ago, I was filming a television show with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. 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 part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
