At this point a year ago, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response by the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation 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 – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, 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 cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, rediscovered, 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. However, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
