At this point the previous year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Present were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, 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 delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, 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 showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
