Around this period last year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
