At this point a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
