Around this period the previous year, I found myself on a TV programme in the company of three performers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a big pop star, plus a renowned 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 the Surrey region. It had been a good night, however at that moment, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A topic for future discussion.
The Response by the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, this trio of troubadours in the TV green room responded in two ways. Firstly, they edged away from me. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds which naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, but I know it to be true. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, 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, sometimes banish me or clear the room themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone prior to me blasting their ears, damaging their headset equipment.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Aerosols, liquids, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent 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 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 know exactly what you need, you poor thing. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Kind soul. Didn’t achieve anything, sadly, apart from sending my guts into raptures and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure which whether folk remedies or not, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. With forthcoming bookings to sing for her supper over Christmas, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to use hand gel hourly throughout the winter based on her explanation and, specific measures were necessary for social events and gatherings. Prior to socializing, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – whether you felt a cold coming or not. Extreme. I like it. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose later with additional bursts of the solution.
What Happened Next
I was in. And I can report I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the many containers I acquired, lost, reacquired, located, and so on. 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, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I'm set for the fight.
