Around this period last year, I ended up on a TV programme with three singers. Included were a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. The coldest season was upon us. 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, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned how it was possible to avoid catching a cold with many partygoers were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, how come some people have nose-blows like trumpets, while others are quieter? Something to explore later.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
When I brought up my evening, these three musicians in the waiting area took two actions. To begin with, they moved back a bit. Second, they launched into an animated conversation on how to avoid catching colds which expected because of their careers was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. 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, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. Those at home, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, the unfortunate crew in the control room became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the director would shout to his team before I deafened them all, blowing the wiring in their headphones.
Handling Blocked Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don’t start me. Sprays, drops, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. It's hard to find something more pathetic than a Brummie tone delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence showed me kindness. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Bless her. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, apart from sending my guts into raptures and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Prevention Strategy
So no, I loathe winter illnesses and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I listened intently together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour throughout the winter as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required for social events and gatherings. Before any event, she suggested a few applications of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. I appreciated it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up later with additional bursts of the solution.
The Results
I was in. And I must admit I remained cold-free. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, found, and so on. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it's oozing out. However, an acceptable trade-off. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm stocked up with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
