This time last year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. 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 have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room 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 studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. 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. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
