This time last year, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I like 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 must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, found, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
