This time the previous year, I was on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching 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, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? A topic for future discussion.
Their Take of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Secondly, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was almost an obsession. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what as my symptoms are harsher than most. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, the unfortunate crew in the control room grew attuned to the warning signs. “Cans off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic 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. In my first year away at university, without my mother's home remedies, the janitor in our dorm took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, very Irish, and demanded I eat the fresh, skinless onion she offered me in bed. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures which onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation plus, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the product.
The Results
I followed suit. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, located, and more. And the disappointing instant when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer stored in your pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I'm prepared to combat.
