This time last year, I was filming a television show with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, 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 poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
