At this point a year ago, I was filming a television show with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. 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 don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances 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 grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly 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 sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
