At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Response of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
