At this point a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included 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. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, however at that moment, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party 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.
The Response by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mother recommends … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I despise catching colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, reacquired, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
