At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs 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 became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits 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 uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star 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 use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, 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 leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
