Around this period last year, I was participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Singers
Upon referencing the party, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds that expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I get that, 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 symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. Those at home, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Headphones off!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mum prescribes … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. In other words, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Goodness gracious. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, apart from sending my guts into raptures and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully alongside my colleagues as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed during festivities. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray into both nostrils – even if healthy. Drastic. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I followed suit. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, rediscovered, etc. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel 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 fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
