At this point last year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, 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, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
