This time last year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. 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. The festivities were fun, but now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party 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? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, bought again, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
