At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray 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, lost, reacquired, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
