Around this period last year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, 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, however at that moment, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
