At this point a year ago, I ended up filming a television show alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in a Surrey location. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, simply to make conversation, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
Their Take by the Trio
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – preventing colds is crucial for me as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My family, alert to the initial throat noises that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before giving up. It's hard to find something more pathetic as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. 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, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she brought to my sickbed. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
Thus, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered in addition, 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 into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I remained cold-free. It wasn't perfect: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, bought again, located, etc. And that dispiriting moment when you discover you've crushed the hand sanitizer kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Still, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
