Around this period the previous year, I was on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Reaction by the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that understandable due to their profession was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable 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 ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long based on her explanation and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
