This time the previous year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, found, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
