This time the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old 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 pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, 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. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, 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. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly all winter long based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, found, etc. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
