Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a big pop star, 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 in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Singers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds that 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 because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I paid close attention then alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly during the cold months based on her explanation in addition, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, repurchased, found, etc. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
