At this point the previous year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. 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 nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
