This time last year, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I questioned 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, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … 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 can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed 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 for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, found, etc. 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. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
