Around this period the previous year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, 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.
