Around this period a year ago, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, yet now, to break the silence, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response by the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, 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 almost an obsession. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. I lack official documentation, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before giving up. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she was highly committed. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary when it came to parties and what not. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product into both nostrils – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, located, and more. Plus the frustrating time when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. 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.
