This time the previous year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. 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 had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, 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. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
