At this point the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, 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 which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, located, and so on. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
