At this point the previous year, I found myself filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, 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, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take from the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I need to dodge colds no matter what 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. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
