Around this period the previous year, I ended up on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was 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, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. The festivities were fun, yet now, to break the silence, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
The Response from the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they started a passionate debate 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 don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the studio director would holler to everyone before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she brought to my sickbed. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter as far as I could deduce plus, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. And, get this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, misplaced, bought again, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Still, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
