Around this period the previous year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists 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 directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
