This time last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Trio
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the TV green room did two things. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I'll return shortly.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. It appealed to me. Moreover, 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 snuffled not once all last winter. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, repurchased, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, 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 set for the fight.
