This time last year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, 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, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, these three musicians in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me 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. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, located, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
