Around this period the previous year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure 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. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
