At this point last year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. First, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone 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. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
