At this point the previous year, I found myself participating in a broadcast with three singers. Present were a hip-hop artist with Ghanaian roots, a well-known pop singer, and a famous mezzo-soprano. It was deep midwinter. Just the night prior, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, packed into a local bar's party area somewhere in Surrey. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I wondered how one could prevent getting a cold as numerous attendees were part of an orchestra of winter ailments. By the way, what explains the trumpet-like nose blows, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Reaction from the Trio
When I brought up my evening, the group of artists in the waiting area responded in two ways. First, they moved back a bit. Second, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion regarding ways to stay cold-free which understandable due to their profession was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I need to dodge colds no matter what since my colds are more severe than others'. There's no doctor's note to prove it, yet I'm certain it's factual. My symptoms persist. I experience worse nasal blockage, my throat is scratchier, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My family, wise to the couple of quick throat-clearances which herald the coming storm, sometimes banish me or leave themselves. Back when I presented football on ITV, my teammates behind the scenes grew attuned to the warning signs. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Sprays, drops, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mom advocates … they all work for a while until they fail. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it sounds a bit nasally restricted at the best of times. On the plus side, it draws pity, which isn't ideal. When I started college, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I have the perfect solution, you poor thing. I'll return shortly.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and demanded I eat the peeled, raw onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. It didn't help at all, unfortunately, other than causing digestive turmoil and creating bad breath.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Thus, I hate colds and firmly believe avoiding is superior to treating which onion-based or otherwise, are ineffective. I focused carefully along with the rapper and the pop star when the mezzo-soprano walked us through her cold avoidance regime. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she approached it with great diligence. She directed us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months from what I gathered and, there were special precautions required during festivities. Ahead of any such engagement, she recommended a couple of blasts of a preventive product through the nasal passages – regardless of symptoms. Extreme. It appealed to me. And, listen to this, she mandated a second dose post-event with more spray of the same stuff.
The Results
I was in. And I can report I didn't sniffle all winter. It wasn't perfect: the many containers I acquired, mislaid, repurchased, found, and so on. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel kept in your jeans and it's oozing out. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. With winter returning, I’m re-armed to the teeth with the singer's suggested supplies. I'm set for the fight.
