Around this period a year ago, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers 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 because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, 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. My relatives, 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. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. 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 took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered in addition, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
