At this point last year, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old 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 pondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response by the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds 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 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, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. 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 janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter from what I gathered in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, located, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's oozing out. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
