This time a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space somewhere in Surrey. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction of the Trio
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the TV green room responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. I lack official documentation, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, 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 studio director would holler to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, 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. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil 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, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months from what I gathered plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, get this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the solution.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, located, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
