Around this period last year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. 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, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. First, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star 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 sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
