At this point a year ago, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, repurchased, found, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
