At this point a year ago, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Included were 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 somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
