Around this period the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, 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 unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
