Around this period last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, 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, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
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, misplaced, bought again, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
