This time the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The night before, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. By the way, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response of the Trio
At mention of my night out, these three musicians backstage at the TV studio responded in two ways. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate on how to avoid catching colds and this expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, yet I'm personally involved – preventing colds is crucial for me because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, often shoo me away or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, 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 before admitting defeat. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn't ideal. When I started college, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you unfortunate soul. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, with a strong Irish accent, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Kind soul. It didn't help at all, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I listened intently alongside my colleagues when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Ahead of any such engagement, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray into both nostrils – even if healthy. Extreme. I like it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I was in. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, found, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. However, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I'm fully prepared with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
