This time a year ago, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I wondered 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, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds which expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
