Around this period the previous year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion 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 as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
