At this point a year ago, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me 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 illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, repurchased, 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 re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
