This time a year ago, I found myself participating in a broadcast in the company of three performers. There was a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a major pop celebrity, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, 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, but now, simply to make conversation, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were players in a symphony of coughs, sneezes, snuffles and nose-blows. On a side note, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and some do not? A question for another day.
Their Take of the Three Performers
Upon referencing the party, this trio of troubadours in the waiting area took two actions. Firstly, they shrunk away from me slightly. Secondly, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion about preventing colds and this naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I understand that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, yet I'm certain it's factual. My colds last longer. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat feels rougher, I suffer from louder, more relentless coughing spells. My family, familiar with the early throat signs indicating trouble ahead, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. During my time hosting football on TV, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Cans off!” the studio director would holler to his team to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Dealing With Blocked Noses
As for my blocked noses, I could go on and on. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mother recommends … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad than a Brummie tone spoken without the benefit of air passing through the nostrils. In other words, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, separated from family care, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was wonderfully sweet, very Irish, and adamant that I consume the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She stood and watched me do so. Bless her. Didn’t achieve anything, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I despise catching colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that whether folk remedies or not, don’t work. I focused carefully together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she was highly committed. She directed us to use hand gel hourly all winter long from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product up each nostril – even if healthy. Drastic. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I have to say I snuffled not once all last winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, mislaid, reacquired, found, etc. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle kept in your jeans and it's leaking all over. Nevertheless, a small cost for the benefit. With winter returning, I'm stocked up with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
