Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, repurchased, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
