This time last year, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists 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 sanitize hands regularly during the cold months based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
