At this point a year ago, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, to break the silence, I wondered ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio did two things. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was almost an obsession. That makes sense, but I'm also deeply invested – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. 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, sometimes banish me or evacuate the area. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the studio director would holler to his team prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, except for upsetting my stomach and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating that traditional or modern, don’t work. 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 approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long from what I gathered and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product up each nostril – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the solution.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, repurchased, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
