At this point a year ago, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
