At this point last year, I was filming a television show in the company of three performers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. We were in the heart of winter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub in a Surrey location. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a 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 topic for future discussion.
The Reaction from the Trio
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they edged away from me. Next, they launched into an animated conversation about preventing colds and this understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs since my colds are more severe than others'. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs that signal an oncoming cold, either kick me out of the room or evacuate the area. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as a Midlands dialect spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. I mean, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn't ideal. During my initial university year, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm felt sorry for me. “I have the perfect solution, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, very Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Kind soul. No improvement resulted, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and leaving my breath foul.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Health Routine
Thus, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that onion-based or otherwise, fail to help. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star while she explained her health practices. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she clearly took it all very seriously. She instructed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce and, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she recommended a couple of blasts of a nasal spray up each nostril – even if healthy. Extreme. I appreciated it. And, get this, she insisted on following it up 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. There were downsides: the numerous products I purchased, mislaid, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And that dispiriting moment you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I’m re-armed to the teeth with her prevention arsenal. I'm set for the fight.
