This time a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime 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 ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. That makes sense, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My illnesses drag on. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to the staff to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully 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 instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she advised several sprays of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Intense. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, lost, bought again, 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. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
