Around this period last year, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. 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 in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, to break the silence, I questioned 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. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances 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 grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
