This time last year, I was filming a television show with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. 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 despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently 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 clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
