This time the previous year, I ended up participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, fail to help. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
