This time the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, however at that moment, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? Something to explore later.
The Response from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds that expected because of their careers 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. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to the staff before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. No improvement resulted, sadly, other than causing digestive turmoil and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I loathe winter illnesses and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly throughout the winter based on her explanation in addition, there were special precautions required during festivities. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray up each nostril – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. Moreover, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the product.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, located, and more. And that dispiriting moment finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. As the cold season approaches once more, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
