Around this period last year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, simply to make conversation, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
