Around this period last year, I ended up participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate about preventing colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues 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 apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, bought again, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. However, a small cost for the benefit. 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.
