Around this period last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. 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. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
