Around this period last year, I ended up filming a television show with three singers. Included were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. The night before, I attended a longtime friend's 60th birthday, squeezed into a pub's event space in the Surrey region. The festivities were fun, yet now, just for something to say, I questioned how one could prevent getting a cold when half the people at the party were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. Incidentally, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, and others don’t? A question for another day.
The Reaction of the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, this trio of troubadours backstage at the TV studio took two actions. To begin with, they edged away from me. Second, they launched into an animated conversation regarding ways to stay cold-free which expected because of their careers was a major concern for them. I understand that, but I'm also deeply invested – I need to dodge colds no matter what because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My colds last longer. My nasal passages are more congested, my throat feels rougher, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances indicating trouble ahead, either kick me out of the room or leave themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the producer would yell to his team before I deafened them all, damaging their headset equipment.
Managing Stuffy Noses
As for my blocked noses, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, including the intense vapor from heated brandy my mom advocates … they help briefly until they fail. It's hard to find something more pathetic as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. In other words, it can sound nasal even normally. Fortunately, this often brings compassion, which isn’t always a good thing. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaning staff at our accommodation took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. Be right back.” She was very lovely, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the uncooked, peeled onion she presented to me. She monitored my consumption. Bless her. It didn't help at all, sadly, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I despise catching colds and am convinced prevention beats cure which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I paid close attention then together with the other artists when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she approached it with great diligence. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour all winter long as far as I could deduce and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Before any event, she advised several sprays of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
My Experience
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were downsides: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, lost, reacquired, rediscovered, and more. And the disappointing instant you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel you left in your back pocket and it's leaking all over. However, an acceptable trade-off. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm fully prepared with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm prepared to combat.
