This time last year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees 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 of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, reacquired, found, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
