Around this period the previous year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
