This time the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
