This time a year ago, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees 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? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
