Around this period last year, I was filming a television show with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Health Routine
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
