Around this period a year ago, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – 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 illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, etc. 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. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
