At this point the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, 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, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs 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. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Handling Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, 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 extremely kind, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
