At this point the previous year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. 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 somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. 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 plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
