This time last year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers 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? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. It appealed to me. Moreover, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, repurchased, rediscovered, and so on. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
