This time the previous year, I found myself filming a television show with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a 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 some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Singers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion 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 because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
