Around this period last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate 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
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
