At this point the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
Their Take from the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was very lovely, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, bought again, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
