Around this period the previous year, I was participating in a broadcast alongside three vocalists. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, 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. The festivities were fun, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting 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, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Response by the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area did two things. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, 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 director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation plus, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. 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 ready for battle.
