Around this period last year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they help briefly before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which traditional or modern, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, repurchased, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I’m ready for battle.
