This time last year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. 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. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. 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, but I have skin in this game too – 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, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. 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. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, and more. 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, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
