At this point the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, 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, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get 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 illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. 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 the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. Be right back.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I paid close attention then together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment 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. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
