At this point the previous year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, are ineffective. 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 approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
