This time the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – 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, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone 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 ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, found, and more. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
