This time a year ago, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand 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 lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
