At this point a year ago, I found myself filming a television show in the company of three performers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, but now, simply to make conversation, 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. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Singers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, 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. “Cans off!” the director would shout to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently 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 commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. It appealed to me. Moreover, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, located, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
