At this point the previous year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take of the Trio
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds which understandable due to their profession was a major concern 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, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. 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 in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, located, and so on. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
