At this point last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, just for something to say, I pondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
Their Take from the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
