At this point the previous year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm 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 brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. 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
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
