Around this period last year, I was filming a television show with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – 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, 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. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
