Around this period a year ago, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. 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. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
