At this point a year ago, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
