This time last year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
