At this point the previous year, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned 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? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, 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 to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … 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 can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, found, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
