Around this period last year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad 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, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
