Around this period last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
