At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – 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 firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
