At this point the previous year, I was on a TV programme alongside three vocalists. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, and a famous mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, 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, yet now, simply to make conversation, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Singers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area did two things. First, they moved back a bit. Next, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. That makes sense, yet I'm personally involved – I must avoid colds at all costs as my symptoms are harsher than most. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances that signal an oncoming cold, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room learned to recognize the signals. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team to avoid auditory overload, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Dealing With Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they help briefly before giving up. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, separated from family care, the cleaning staff at our accommodation felt sorry for me. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and am convinced prevention beats cure that whether folk remedies or not, fail to help. I focused carefully together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a nasal spray into both nostrils – regardless of symptoms. Intense. I appreciated it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I have to say I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, misplaced, reacquired, found, and more. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm prepared to combat.
