This time the previous year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Vocalist’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
