This time a year ago, I was filming a television show alongside three vocalists. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free 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 since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
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 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 clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of Vicks First Defence up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
