Around this period a year ago, I was participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and a famous 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 in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, 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, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, located, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
