At this point the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, 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, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
