At this point a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. 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 as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction by the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio took two actions. First, they edged away from me. Secondly, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. Back when I presented football on ITV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Nasal Congestion
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. No improvement resulted, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. I appreciated it. Moreover, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
The Results
I followed suit. And I can report I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, bought again, located, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
