Around this period a year ago, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a major pop celebrity, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? Something to explore later.
Their Take by the Trio
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get 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 colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to the staff prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mother recommends … they help briefly until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, 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 extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Vocalist’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then together with the other artists as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
